soft bed, the walls dissolve.
i huddle, long for warmth,
a hand to hold.
my world narrows.
outside, the moon slices
through bare tree branches
dancing geometries
across the floor boards,
and the mistakes I made
live inside my head.
my father built walls
and I am a loner
forged in my father's image
and I'm drifting where
the heart speaks the loudest
and into my midnight slumber,
into the ruins of my heart,
and the phantom warmth
of an empty bed.
(and you, born of shadow
walk into my sleep.)
she sits on the edge of my mattress,
smokes my last joint. tips the ashes
onto the floor
and with a thousand sentences crafted
in my mind,
the resurrected visions of us
and the night in my head
and you on my arms
I awake to the tangle of "I love you's"