every lump in this mattress
a boulder against my back,
every wrinkle in the sheets
a two-by-four in my shoulder,

sleep denied by the fear
of what tomorrow’s visit
will bring. i squeeze my eyes
shut, try to focus instead

on the events of today,
find some relief, conjuring
her face. but then
visions of another face come,

black and white, frame by
frame, like in an old film noir.
dark, my love for her was very
dark, a source of secret shame.

i get out of bed, go to
the window, look out on
a surreal scene- moonlight,
and its muted glow, hints

of lacy flakes.