Between Sheets - Poem by Zoe Schwab
The yolk of the December sun
splashes on eggshell walls,
escaping the glassy cold as
soft songs voyage
from the radio
to the island of my bed.
They glide, slide,
slip between sheets,
wrap warm arms around my waist and
stir me into milky blankets.
I stretch and
hair pours over pillows, in it
melodies tangling and twinkling.
The folding and unfolding
a butterfly net,
catch whirring words which
float and flutter
skin and cotton,
field and sky,
they perch on the eager hands of
(I am a love letter in an envelope.
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