sheets for walls

see through the threads

there is sun outside

here it's dark instead

and your silhouette 

on my pillow-floor bed

you had to know I wanted you then.

my head, heavy and sweet

a bowl of lead 

your hands, your feet

on my bed

you called me a laugh 

and I called you a treat

and you're lying, asleep

on my floor-pillow bed

and still, my lips

the kissingest red or something

neat, is it in my head

the smell of wheat, and bread

in the street, and people

awake in our stead

hot tea, a reptile 

on a steel beam,

a peck on the cheek, 

cheesecake of the week, 

my love in a box 

of tartrazine, it's cheap

but it's strong and deep