i cannot sleep.
my shoulders crumpled, the bed is a stiff body
an old husband i do not love, i am no wife. i take off my rings
to wash my hands. i take off my clothes
to wear the bedsheets, nothing. turning over, over,
awake still, and the well of night
drying up,
i sit and rock back and forth
the mattress speaks, frustrated with me.
my feet touch to the floor, and i hear
the grey screaming it has, the groaning sunrise, tired of itself.
