tea set 

i first noticed it with the coffee mugs.
they used to hold a wild gulp
but came to only allow for cautious
sipping. each day my plates get smaller.
i am unsure if there is anything
i can do to slow this down. the spoons
are tiny. make it way too hard to eat yogurt.
in the first weeks i wondered if maybe i was
getting bigger. headed towards a 
clifford the big red dog kind of situation. 
sadly thought i still fit in the house. 
still have enough space on my slice 
of the bed. it is just the dishes & utensils. 
my tiny forks. i sit on the floor. tell my lover
we should have a tea party. he does not
enjoy things like that & he begs me
to take this seriously. i typically am not
the kind of person to stop an object in motion.
i prefer to let people break up with me. 
let the one ugly apple rot & turn
into chicken snacks. time turns into broth. 
i wish i could shrink with the bowls.
stand on the kitchen counter & sleep inside
one of the good slippers. instead i am
holding a knife that fits on the tip of 
my finger. i am standing with the fridge door open,
eating grapes from a pile on the shelf. 
i understand why my objects decided this
was their only option. it is tiring to hold.
to cut. to lift. i too shrink before a mouth.
i forgive them. find them in the drawer just
as grains of sand. my lover is outside
carving the earth like a turkey, looking for gold. 
i let the dust pass between open fingers. 
my lover knocks on our own front door
& yells for me to come outside.
in the field behind our house he has made
a knife the size of our house. he asks,
"will you help me bring it inside?"