But of something much closer to home-
I lay in my bed at night, on my side.
My lights hit odd darknesses, in spaces from the TV, or the moon- a candle or LED light.
I imagine your body wrapped and pressed against mine, and that safe and sound feeling
Of being held to sleep by someone you love.
No...
It is not our differences that bind us.
Not you and I.
It is our subtle screaming pride and need for love.
You are as sick as I like them,
And for that,
I must lean you against my wall.
I can not play you anymore, for you have gone out of tune,
And you an instrument,
I know not how to calibrate.
