I stand above my bed
And examine the damage.
Blankets this way and that
Pillows all over
Sheets tangled up around themselves.
Proof of something that
Only hours ago
Left this place empty.
I take in the rubble
And breathe deeply.
I lower myself down to those
Tangled sheets
And backwards bedspreads
And fill my lungs with you.
I pull them up around me
And close my eyes
And wish for this place to be
The same kind of battleground
Again tomorrow.

Drip Drop Splash
Thought trickling in transit
descended from where,
from what?
To where? For what?
For good, bad or squat?
To follow or to watch,
To be pursued or forgot,
Intelligent or not
They fall into the eternal pool
Whats next?