This is the name game we play
Your mother and me
When the walls are asleep
& the rug hasn’t stretched out like the cat that it is
When we hear nothing but
The sugar in the coffee and the
Butter on the bread
We pretend you are late for school
& in the empty house
As casual as possible
We call out a name
From the exhumed archaics—The impossible exotics
To the invisible regulars & sunburnt contemporaries
Most fall by the wayside
But those that stick
Ring with a faint echo
In the quiet house
Like the walls bouncing back
The whisper of our future memories
This is the name we look for
A name you could butter bread with
And sugar coffee
A name already so deeply baked into
The bones of our home
All we need
Is to listen for it