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?