its fitting, dont you think
that we sleep on a bed
of books
hold us steady through
a dance off
thick paper bound books
just read the time travelers wife in a day
i sleep to dream
these nights
spiral coils
shrunken mattress, i only sweat the bed
when im alone
skulls tucked up
under chin
jello legs and fragile
temples
hold me in place, put
words under me
support my frame
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
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