I'm lying under your bed
flat on my back
the wooden bed slats high above me
It's woolly down here
and I was in too much of a hurry
to grab a pillow.
I picture you up there, under the patchwork
Your body barely makes
an impression in the mattress.
The only sound is the gentle flap
as I turn the pages of my book.
it's too dark
to read but I know every word by heart,
every illustration is stored
in the larger book
in my brain. The pictures of you,
the pictures you drew,
the pictures we drew together,
they're all in there.
I hear a thump and the sound of the cat
padding around, scratching in the litter box
in the bathroom. I want to crawl out
and gaze at you as you sleep,
watch your little face twitch with dreams
But no, I'll stay down here as long as I can
though the floorboards are hard
I'll stay here til dawn
before dragging myself out
to see if you're really there