Twin beds

I lost my dreams in between these mattresses
we share. The gap is pressed against my spine
and I wake up feeling disjointed. Sensory
elusion, recession at this gorge-made of bed sheet-
marking our sleep, where dead cells accumulate.
Vertical blinds open at one slat allow
light through without interference to light
the room in grey tones. My right-foot heel
is stuck in the enveloping gap between
our mattresses. I bend my toes in unison
and then stretch them out to get blood going.

 

I lost my dreams in between these mattresses
we share. I stretch my arm over on your side
to feel the impression of your body and it feels warm.
My arm flails ruffling the sheet and your duvet is far.
In an awkward angle I find your pillow,
and I bring it to my face and inhale your new-age
man musky sweat smelling of AXE power and Gucci
‘Made to Measure’ and this gap between our
mattresses widens as I shrink. I fall into it helpless
remembering your curved spine for which
I’d cross this gap each night.

 

I lost my dreams in between these mattresses
we share but grasp at this illusion of poetry
I found in waking up without you.

(..)