when my body and your body
lie together under a white sheet
your head on my arm
your leg thrown over my leg
the whole long continent of you
the pale ridge line of your rib cage and hip and thigh
neighbor me
there is nothing that needs to be explained
or accomplished, the world is at rest and complete
and though
we drift apart in the eddies of the day
we will find our way back
to the slight hollow that mark the place
where we lie now, astonished, saying nothing...

i am tired
not for lack of sleep--
no, i slept quite well last night
and i've had my coffee

it's something deeper, something
inherently present, in the
fibers of my skin,
in my tendons, in my eyes.

i am exhausted,
fatiguely by life,
by the noise and silence,
the people, and
the empty rooms,
the light and dark;
by hope and despair

so worn down by the world
that nothing in it can
refresh my mind from the constant buzzing.

i am tired and there are not
enough hours in the night
for the type of rest i need...