From this angle, she doesn't look human--a pool of sleep and sex. I feel deceitful watching her.

A yawn--
A stretch--
She curls into me:

Her touch stiff and different, her finger presses my skin as she starts to count my bones. ... 9, 10, 11 ...

-- I'm a double negative, she says.

&

-- Your love makes me pretty.

Our bed has everything we need within reach. Sometimes we sit up, pillows hugged to our knees, and try to guess what's in the pockets of the nine-to-fivers who walk past our window.

-- I love you only, she says, though I didn't ask her to.

I put on my coat and she tells me she won't sleep 'til she sees me again. -- I promise, she adds. As long as it takes.

Tonight, I'll be inside another woman in another city and I'll think of her, living in my margins, holding all things together.