Dirty Dishes

he could tell I had been snacking
on left-over cherry pie and vanilla
ice cream, this after telling him I
needed to lose a few pounds
starting today.
The weight chart was taped to
wall right over the dessert plate
waiting for the data from tomorrow's
weigh in, ironic really.
I know he had finished the cognac
even though the empty bottle was
neatly hidden under newspaper, I
saw the empty shot glass, still
fragrant on the bedstand.
the last kernels of popcorn at the
bottom of the blue bowl, salt glistening
on the sides, a smear of peanut butter
on a knife, such are the dirty dishes
in our lives, left behind undone
as we chase rainbows and
butterflies.