I just want to be alone

You frighten me. Your moods
unnerve me. Your hours get in
my way. At times, when you're
here, and your jacket's tossed
on the floor and there's a half
drunk mug of cold tea in nearly
every room, I decide I just want
to be alone, so I can collect my
thoughts, get up early and work,
without your wants and rhythms
tripping up mine. This morning
I woke to a neighbor's new rooster
crowing. I turned my head and there
was your strange gaunt face at close
range. Icy joy invaded me: you'd
lived through the night. I had to
shove my pillows on the floor
to get a better look at you.

[Amy Gerstler {1956- }, 'Often', from Bitter Angel: Poems]