Whereas we were apart together for as long as I can remember,

We no longer sleep at the same time,

And he and I no longer sleep near one another.

He might crash a couch

But I crash a floor more willingly and excitedly

And I know from within that he or I will leave.

The family unit divided by discontent: algebra for our time;

But where will he go? I wonder,

And I recall an old Persian word.

How should I pronounce it?