I have a small bed
I lie in my little bed tonight
I don’t need a bigger bed because there is no second body to occupy the extra space
Extra sheets are necessary because there is no second body to warm my own
If I had a lover in my bed, our legs would intertwine and our arms would wrap around each other.
If I had a lover in my bed, the lonely, quiet night wouldn’t hear my thoughts…
But the noise of my voice and her voice, and little sounds that we make when our bodies clasp.
But the night is lonely, and it is cold, and my bed is still small.

Yet, I lie on the edge of this little bed, and behind me there lies empty space.
Does my mattress hear nothing but my thoughts, and feel nothing but my shaking body,
That it dares to make that little space for another?
It is enough space for a lover, yet there is no weight—only empty space.

My head, only owner of my thoughts, rests upon the pillow that has only felt a warm spot at a time
There is little that my eyes can see as I stare into nothingness, only darkness
Scattered light that penetrates from tiny holes of window curtains fades within the blackness
Blackness?
My eyes close and no one whispering behind my ear, only metal springs that my ears can hear
I am scared, but my arms and ribs tremble not of fear but of solitude,
A solitude that will crawl up in my bed in the middle of the night
Cold and figureless, ******* up little by little the remnants of my life
And yet, this bed doesn’t fear, for it waits for the second warm spot on the pillow.
Perhaps my dreams deceive it, but can it not see that they are but figments of the mind?
Perhaps I’ve deceived it, when it hears my thoughts on these cold, solitary nights.

Now, no light can penetrate these lids, for they’ve been seduced by midnight sleep
No second to wrap around, only solitude will intertwine
Now, no blankets can warm this back, for the warm lover hands never came
And so, I can only lie and put my thoughts to rest in my cold, lonely, little bed…