Impulse

[addy]

You unravel your suit in the sickly pale color of the not sure this sentence makes grammatical sense... "unravel in the sickly pale color"?
room, and I lay in bed with my curlers, conjuring
up images of your equally pale frame climbing into
the comfort of our bought home. Like once spoiled
and now motionless pet parakeets stuffed uncomfortably
in a shoe-box labeled 'lovely' I adore this image unreasonably. It's so atmospheric and weird and interesting like an absurdist novel we seem slothful, I suppose
'He' was watching us then.

Your lips catch mine and set sparks off in the room like
flints, our surroundings blur and change into a vintage
50's TV scene brought to you by: Impulses: The Lead
Paint That Varnishes Your Mind. OMG that's fantastic

This is really great stuff. Not sure of this counts as a criticism but I didn't quite get the title after reading the poem... I felt you were making more of a commentary about love nests/ domesticity and I was confused about the meaning then of "Impulse"... but that's just imo