As if description wasn’t the whole entire thing.
I got older asleep and liked it.
Said you’re gonna have to wait
when I meant the erotic erotic modality of pixels,
of distance, of comparing calendars
until all the fun drains out.
Management decided it would be a good day.
And so it is.
I don’t mean this to be cynical.
I don’t mean that at all.
What I mean is the news we read before bed is reified.
The file cabinet in the closet in my mind gets jammed,
whines a little when you pull against resistance,
but it opens.
I’m open to whatever collectively processed dialog
will change the way we wake.
This is not the first time I’ve been asked the origin
of the hair on the pillowcase
and it matches no one I know,
no one I’ve even ached to know.
It’s okay to buy a sofa,
it’s okay to sleep on it.
Even through the night.
There’s a light on and someone else pays the bill.