BEDS [Little fish tacos, greenhouses and celestial radio.]
Little fish tacos, greenhouses and celestial radio.
In our tent bed, tethered to hive and wind—
june july and august
Jelly. Jelly. Jelly.
Vast narrows. Cradled cosmology.
The hidden room where you are good at stealing dice,
and saying goodnight.
The museum bed where you wander without him—
Weather deck bound with cloud
Regal four-posters sold in vast department stores.
Show rooms of mattresses.
Shrouded beds in the Avenue of Genies.
Alley beds. Recycled beds.
Rocking in the hull
This is my half and this is your half—
The invisible line down the middle—
Limestone slab and curvature