Often my partner sits in a compound, deliberately passive-aggressive like back in pre-school.

I’m kidding. I’m alone.  
In our farewell, as I saw it, our descendants built us a museum to spy
on us & others. They look great — stomping in genomic bloodlines. That’s their
moonlight, indispensable for smearing whirlpools

down cell walls that follow a trajectory
aimed at every atom of us both in maroon cords.