john grey

 

 

comfortable

I sleep anew
but the dreams are old.
No strange faces,
no unexpected circumstances.
It's a consequence
of the same bed,
same skin, same pair of arms
wrapped around the same woman.
Whatever got me here
I've done and can't redo.
The loss equals the gain.
Past gives up the ghost.
The future takes a rain check.
The present has the field to itself.
What a couple we are.
Rearranging our shapes each night
to fit the comfort,
finding the one place where
everything is bearable
and living there for all our worth.

 

 

back to issue 1

take me home