Hand-me-down bedsheets
drug store markers, scattered
water damaged wood floors
counters stained in beet and turmeric
walmart furniture I didn’t buy
blue-yellow gradient collecting at our head
the slow burn of dawn
the smell of skin like fruit that’s been sitting in a bowl
our consciousness, returning as the sun
whose second life is rolling far
behind the head of the earth
so our mind may steep in R.E.M.
and release coiled fascia
awaken to a plastered ceiling with a hole punched through it
my toes against your shin
groans I sense with ear plugs in
I grin because you are a bear
before the day arrives in pink beginnings
I stay in this rare position
quietly unwound
wide laced
with you.