i don't know you

I don't know you
at all
she says, wiggling her toes
at the end of
the wide
sheet,
a pale blue, not unlike
a Carolina sky
in june.
you're a mystery to me,
she says.
neither leaning
to look into my eyes
or move a hand to touch
me into
talk.
I know I say, whispering,
as a cloud
might before
it drifts away.