In the belly of the whale

Today ended as usual.
You came home, I made mashed
potatoes, you were silent
at the table. You asked me
to iron your suit, I licked every
word you said.

I am not
someone at the bar, the dragon
lady on the corner of 31st and Broad.
It's overwhelming in your hand. I fear
I'm beginning to slough off into the
gloves you wear when the weather bites
too hard.