I held you loosely beneath sheets
that should have been washed a week ago.
you rolled away in a dream,
and I didn't bother to try and coax you back
toward me.
Earlier that day we'd made some polite conversation
with a man on the street who
You knew a while ago.
And I stood there and smiled
(I know how dumb I looked, one of your friends
once said I had no personality--at first I was angry,
but thinking it over,
who could blame her).
Later you told me how your best friend died
and I watched you cry again, feeling terrible
and uncomfortable in my sneakers.
I think after we both mourned and I'd undone the laces
we might have gone out to get a sandwich,
but that could have been before.
When you rolled over and kissed me after the
lights were out it was hasty,
and our sex was too.
It was hard to see love in it.
(it was closer to relief.)
But I fell back asleep anyway, and didn't stir
until your dream made you roll back
over to me, and pull me close under your chin.