House poetry!

[perchance2dream]

He sits on the sofa,
munching on popcorn and watching the television.
I limp in after a long day at work
--I saved a life today,
he told five people they had so long to live--
wanting only to sit down on my sofa
and watch my television shows.

I sit down.
He offers me popcorn but not the remote.

I sulk.

I see that he's snooped through my cable;
he watches a show I have reasons to save,
a guilty pleasure, something no one mentions.

Two men in elaborate wigs make clever jokes.

He stares at the screen for a moment,
then over at me and back again.

I munch my popcorn darkly,
daring him to ask.