We lay down our weight
buried in sleep and cotton sheets.
Our hold is perfection,
two shapes made for each other.
Press down on the bedsprings
press down on my heart
and the fine winding tendrils
that have been there from the start.
I have been chasing sidewalk
as the street rolls up behind me.
The beggar man sits hand open to change,
all I have for him is "everything is strange".
Devils and angels followed me to the Tavern
and suddenly life's not what I'd arranged.
So live, lay, and love in our perfection,
in benediction and bed sheets
in dragons and belfries,
your construction in me grows.
Shake the earth and quake the seas
because in all reality
it's just you and me.
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