in a bed of books

in a bed of books i'd sleep
with knowledge under my skull
and everyday i'd wake up on the
write side of the bed.
on the bad days a leaf will
fly out nestle in my hand
like my kisses on your gasping neck
cook me a pizza and a joke.
and we'll laugh about our crows feet
and it'll be my doily under
my cup of tea.
and because it's what happens when
your eyes are open make happen
what when they're closed
i'll slumber. dream of my palms
my back my hips it's what
you touch.
it's here when it's away in
the creases of my face you see?





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