(I placed you in my bed, but it was not to sleep.
I expected you to stay, but you thought it best to leave
for something else, but still, with a part of me.)
I lied by you in bed but I did not know
that being asleep is something you preferred to being woke
-n but my noises, however bittersweet,
they were unexpected.
“like a truck,” you said
unlike the ebbs of the earth, you suggest
“it surprises me,” you claim.
I guess it’s true — you did not ever wake up
to see me breathing on Sunday morning
or to hear me speak all but sweet nothings,
and I suppose now is the time
–I know– it is bedtime
for more than I’ll care to admit (at all times).