at night, in bed,
we tugon the sheets, the blanket.
it's a war for warmth
without peace,
all night long.
my legs are cold,
her arms
are like ice water.
we should have tucked
it all in at
the bottom of the foot
board.
who made this bed?
is this your pillow or
mine?
the light on the clock is
too bright.
planes could land by its glow.
you're snoring again dear.
i'm thirsty, is there
water on your side?
i have a headache
i shouldn't have had so much
wine.
tap tap tap, on her shoulder,
you're
talking in your sleep again.
who's Chandler?.
the days are better,
sometimes.
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