Going Undisturbed

Coming home to a peaceful quiet
except it’s not really home
rather an apartment, third floor bedroom
where the heat rises and roasts
at night, until suddenly you can’t breathe
and have to take a walk at 2 am downstairs,
bare feet against an icy hardwood floor.
Guess it’s not really quiet either
the air rebounding against a shut heating vent
a stymied roar
and the words from a partner’s lips
gentle and smooth, succinct yet meaningless,
as heavy as an “I missed you”
or a “why do you have to work so long?”
or a “do you need me to shut up?”
can get–
like dropping stones down your esophagus
plop into a hollow stomach
your own stone child too large to puke out.
Even so, gag reflex tickled,
you try and try.