Frozen feets me out.

All the quiet days

I usually neglect.
Sound to sound a sound

The Bed! To bed! In

your new bed!
You know well how I

builds. Or call it: nest.

From our next moment
What else? But bad coffee

It’s such a lovely …

“Oh, this?”
Our clothes for bed, short

mornings meant for dress.

How uncovered gets me over
She says she loves

Then shows me less.

I slurp. Birds chirp.
Then too, some words

fit the shape, and perfect

an ear.
The same gambol, town

a town from town to town.

Cracks find ruins, found here;
a sense that it would.

Banal the inside weather

or not, under she lays.
Lies a prophylaxis. Steps

off a scaffold.

Our first last words
“beh beh?”
It was an escape.