There’s no stopping, I thought.
The world can change as you sleep.
Swing its hips and fling you off.
It helps if I think of
my leg, or just a muscle, tensing
to your shy start-and-stop.
Anything happens, but
the most intimate thoughts
are in time-broken sleep.
The night hazy with our thoughts,
clustered in sleepy mouths.
Even mine are yours.
Tripping over you
and half-collapsed tents of thought,
I’m hunched over and tense
at the bowl, the only stop to sleep.
This wasn’t supposed to be about you.
I have other thoughts,
and I can stop