the bed at night is a life raft in the ocean of the dark. i hang my hands over the sides, pray to god knows what.

drifting somewhere in the black air, feeling only the blanket and the weight of the mattress. the mistress of the sheets.

too many successive nights of being miserable
give one the sense to sense the invisible. i know you're in this room but the air is too thick.

the bed at night is a life boat, a throne off which you can't be thrown. i hang my hands and feet over the sides and go into the space of what can never be known.