He loves Mal
Mal for malnutrition, malfunction him and I
getting skinnier gaunt in haunting our work process

I love Mal
Mal for malign, malcontent me and who
else? Getting sick and–of nothing going the right way

I sit us down at his table and say
It's easier to leave him
but my mouth wasn't moving

He breathes and Mal comes out sad
air bad air nonexclusive and torn down the middle like
us like
me when I breathe and everything but Mal comes out
and she pouts in his fog on the glass
asks
Where are you without me?

He is—
professional objective capable of
garnering little shards of his mal—
Me.

But I can never hope to be him or dare
to cope with my share of
generous selfish
lenient high-strung
sexy hideous
Mal

I stopped myself when I had to
stop myself
and ask
Who is, was Mal?

Close and shut me down
I couldn't speak, either
It's easier to leave it to him

my Mal