At Night

Late some nights,

As I lay in bed

Wrestling with those others,

Your shadow’s breath

Lingers on the cotton sheets.

I know that it wants to ask

Where I have been.

And why my words, though common

Sound strangely unusual,

Like the lyrics of an ancient song.

I want to answer

That it’s not forgetfulness,

Or abandonment.

That I remember the joy

Of breathing in unison.

While devouring life.

All you gave I still have,

Warmly wrapped in dreams,

Like an infant sleeping

On a mother’s breast.

All I gave may be gone,

Diluted in daily chores.

Or drowned in silly noise.

A good exchange, I would say.

Perhaps there were many twists

Hidden, perverse,

In the seemingly straight path.

And my heart simply got lost,

Just like the confused thoughts

Of an old man.