Leviathan

We would like to believe that, like the lovers
in Donne, we rule a kingdom of two
in our panic room. That as the body recovers
after love the sun which burns through
our blissed-out eyelids cannot dent us.
But the script intrudes and domination enters;
your phone is flashing with a work email;
our jobs aren’t safe and we still rent. The struggle
is to house-share with Leviathan—while
amending the lines we’re given and that do arouse,
that we’ve been sold and we’re sold on,
with moments wholly ours to improvise…
Hobbes, on anxiety: a perpetual solicitude
of the time to come. The happiest moment must erode.