Crisis At The Kitchen Table Poem by Raj Dronamraju

In the afternoon when it is warm
And we sip ice tea and walk and talk in slow motion
And sleep early and dream of making love to each other in between anniversaries of beautiful things

In cold afternoons, I hated my family
And I grew apart the way cold makes you expand
And I sat at the kitchen table and rejected this place, this space, these people

On an old sofa made comfortable by the love of those who rested upon it, we sweat and play with each other's hair
It's nice to spend time with you

The kitchen table is haunted and screams in a perceived affront
While the rest of our history remains clam
Blissful in forgetfulness
No grudges held in the living room