Bedsheets

Come home:
the planetary rotation moves
too fast for your
feet to cling to.

Salt in your mouth
for flavour; in your own time.
They won’t wait long for you,
but you’ll decline.

You’ll decline.

But look how far you’ve come:
untamed hairs, cloaking
the rolls of flesh that swell
and swell with your hurt.

Look how far you’ll go:
a dry heart as big as
a six-sided die
cut in half.

Come home now;
There is nothing but
the universe out there
Who cares?

drag the quilt across your head
And contain your faulty heart
Bursting in between the sheets.

Author's Note