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who knows what you think when you sleep there
without me - on my bed - next to you
watching you gather your stormy whirlwinds
of feelings - gut-feelings - you go on about
you seem to have a pattern of ideas
that you've sewn along the years
folded - unfolded and rucked
again and again you will
and I understand how you feel
when the cloth is unfolded
and seems creased and worn out
so let me tell you that you are only wearied
by the times that you've stretched it
gather your blankets bring them at my place
spread them out on my bed
take them out until late in the afternoon
