1:59 am / Thursday, Apr. 09, 2009
My bed is a lap pool—
I’m caught in the lanes
My eyes heavy stooper won’t relax into
Winky sleepy habits
Blinky dreamy hours unfurled
Between sheet and blanket, and blanket and feet
sleep is evading me.
Sewing circles under my eyes
Stitching minutes—knotted when
Alarms alert me to the sun’s rising.
Picture me zombied and out on our porch:
Bleary-eyed cigarette morning buzz
The church bells ring in my ears
The church bells chime seventeen times and I
Shower off the sweat from my skin
Six hours spend trying to slip myself into the indentation you left.
With you by my side I slept soundly—
Snorey sputter warm bed, soft you—
my six pillows can’t replace you:
How the weight of your bones evened out the dips in my mattress.
So I’m slipping between the cracks—foggy minded starring at stars through my window,
With a delightful memory of our hands clasped tight underneath these blankets.
At least it’s a comfort,
At this last resort,
I can close my eyes and
pretend I'm sleeping.