hair drips over me like rain
open the windows and fall asleep with socks on
avoid the pain, of a twisted neck from where you slept.
wake up
I hear you singing
and smile
and laugh
and mash into the pillows beneath my comforter.
       give me something to dance to!
I'm alone and the dresser seems friendly,
still I take the weekends off for the presidents
some say sleeping on sunday is a sign of respect for religion
really ringing in rear-back
bare back
roads, and hills
of skin and bones
that stab you and grab you
goodnight!
                  it's raining.
don't you dare shut the window.
          I double dare you, don't want to share you,
but I will. the old shackles were beaten with brand new keys.
it'd be good to know a lock smith in times like these.