April 17: stopped counting :(

Sleep Patterns

One corner folded back

in a neat triangle, I insert

myself snugly into one quarter

of the bed and sleep unmoved

In the morning

the sheets are smooth except

for a ripple roughly my shape

How different from the way

we populate the mattress

together 

Then no amount of space

 is enough to uncoil our nightly traffic,

the sweet sleepwalk of our limbs

ever-expanding like Hawking’s universe

I twist, you sprawl out

prospecting for new territory

The rails groan, call out for mercy

You lock me

in a sweaty embrace and snore 

blissfully into my neck

I’ve been known to kick, 

to disrobe my pillow

Now

alone

I simply fold the triangle back,

turn up the spread

already smooth across the foot of the bed
and my morning chore is done

I sleep unmoved