Too Much

The other side of the bed is always empty

‘I could sleep there, stretch my legs or arms

Roll over and rest my head

I could touch all the corners

The entire bed is mine every night

But instead, the other side is always empty

For a minute, in a lifetime of hours you were there

Then without a word, a breath of goodbye

The ribbons of silk binding me to the center

Loosened, fell away and I returned to the edge

Now the other side of the bed is always empty

I don’t think it was meant to be

Only that I don’t know how to bind myself

I remain unbound and on the edge

Where I can easily escape slipknots

So even a whispered goodbye or hello

Would remain unheard, in a lifetime of hours

Where a minute wouldn’t matter, and the other side is always empty

3/27/2024