Monday, September 20, 2010

Bed




Bed

7:50 you haven’t slept
all night you
fought this thought
get up, eat
the muzzle of a gun
but you lie there
tell yourself the truth
that this bed
is a terrible place
empty, as if
it’s been tilted
and all your lovers have
rolled out to find
warmth in the arms
of others, an indentation
of a feather bed
a head on a shoulder
an arm across a chest
you think, this is your trigger
for sleeplessness, force
your eyes closed now,
you almost had it.

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