We have stopped arguing, at least
but the eggs on which we tread
are new and fragile
and we must both be careful
where we step
and how, as well
lest we crash down into a mess
of fluid and shell.

We have agreed
to disagree
which means a variety of subjects
have now entered a DMZ
where hollow silence reigns.
No dangerous words can be said.
Some days, it seems,
no words are said at all.

Still
the fighting has stopped.
There is peace in our land
and formal relations
might even slowly become
increasingly informal.
For the time being, though,
certain theaters remain quiet,
still.

The bedroom is No Man’s Land
and the couch is mine.
The war is not truly over
but has become rather cold.

The battles are done
for now.
There is that.