people long to share a bed.
Little children crawl
under the covers to snuggle
with their fathers and mothers;
men and women in
all combinations, even once
their lust is exhausted,
still bend into spoons
and nestle together.
But have you ever noticed
that, no matter how close
you come to another,
you must always
dream alone—
or wondered why must it be
that the truth of the both of you
not knowing what that means
is, in itself, the most
intimate thing?
