Nights in the Museum

Past three nights
you slept
in my office
known by both of us
as the museum.

Slept under the desk
that takes up the consumes
the room;
curled up, no pillow,
at night
and sprawled
a pillow from the couch
from me
in the A.M.

Your exes artifacts don't
bother me,
after I tucked you in
with grandma's old blanket.

You pointed out
           the magazine cover
           the adam & eve pic
           the Mighty Boosh DVD
           the hand-drawn apartments
           connected by a string of hearts sketch.

You offered me a kidney stone
from the doctor's visit that started all this.

It's next to the lego alligator,
the CD my brother made me,
and the comic book never opened.

You gave fair warning
when you woke
to blonde roast coffee:

Maybe you get something
more substantial after the next
surgery.