you lift the covers,
shaking the blanket. you
turn the sheets over, the pillows
get fluffed and tossed.
on hands and knees
you both
look under the bed,
crawling from
spot to spot on the rug.
it's white, she says,
hands moving slowly across
the floor.
a pearl,
like this one, pulling
back her hair
and pointing at an ear.
maybe it's in the other room,
or on the couch,
or on the stairs,
you say, the bathroom,
did we do anything
in there?
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