Tonight, before you fall asleep, if
you grasp an ink-pen in your hand, will words
be written on the sheets when you awake?
Will lines appear across the surface of
the wooden floor, the wall, the bathroom mirror,
explaining how you made it through the night?
Or will you write a poem on her body,
of Beauty, Happiness, and Love that is,
to be washed off in the morning’s rain?