Color Wheel - Ii
Hold on;
me, make a quilt–
preplanned antiquity
for beds that are tight and lifeless
just like most marriages-
tight, little truth,
a show...
no thanks–
I like my sweat
primal in the bedroom,
the sharp color of our breathing
free, not a possession–
what you let go
loves home,
and moods
are better talked
about than left in folds–
if you bleed, too afraid to speak,
bitter wounds mount cold sheets–
what shade of sleep
is guilt
to wind
around your dreams.
If I say I love you,
every part of me is smiling-
all the stitching I need
to hold my mind
in place.
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