I pull them out warm and fragrant
I wrestle with the fabric
Until it lays flesh with the mattress
My face driven into it with a sigh
So inviting
I crawl in welcome
Sounds, people are folded into squares far away
Locked into closets
They were too cold
Warm
I make a tent of my own bending legs
Set up my knees
My feet below them
My toes wiggle free
My grandmother’s toes were always crossed
As if she were permanently going for good luck
I think
Time may have sketched the difference a day makes across my brow
But I can still choose my own luck
My toes wiggle to show me so
Continue to sigh out with every easy in
I will feel safe & invisible & alive
I stretch out everything
Synchronize warmth
Skin and sheet
Small warm place
Is everything we should want anything to be
Clean sheets are pure form
Bed clothes are often joy
Do something simple
Soothing
… and clocks stop
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem