i feel i have learned something
i am not sure i wanted to know-
as ineffable as the smell of sleep,
as whispery as the white fuzz shaved from a thousand peaches,
though not as sweet
as these.
that dark head against the pillow-
a fan of light spreading from the cracks in my shutters-
the breadlike smell of beer-
the silence in my chest, and trailing from my feet-
as i walk back and forth, afraid to wake you-
my friend.
hands and faces, eyes,
have a look of tenderness this morning,
surrounded by white,
closed up from the world like the raveling ends of a long, soft fog
creeping back
did you hold me so tenderly once?

here is what i know:
i don't know you.