"Which side of the bed is yours?"
You asked.
And I panicked.
I don't believe I have ever been asked.
Not for any particular
embarrassing quirk.
Not much space do I use.
It must be my fear of the bed itself.
To rest my head.
To be touched.
To close my eyes,
and simply
breathe
So you ask which side of the bed is mine and I tell you to take the bed.
I'll take the couch.