Last night I heard the neighbours say
"Your children are cute." You giggled
on a wobbly chair
like any other drunk.

You have a voice
soft as tap water
on soiled hands
when you don't touch the bottle.

But your boots
are always heavy
even as they lie silent
on the floor, heel towards me.

There's a spider under the chair
bobbing up and down
closer to my face,
and I remember,

you are so easy to please
with a pair of slippers,
same smile as you unzip
before me in the toilet.

I should fetch them
when you get up.
I should fetch them
before you get up.

by Jim Pascual Agustin