cancellation prize.
right up to the boiling explosion point.
STAND STILL INSIDE THE BEEHIVE.
a garments worth away from sleep.
interlocking chain of defeat and contentment.
a chase of wind, it blows through cracks in glass.
the cold light, electrical light peers through slits in drapes.
his warmth against my back as we say goodnights.
my mind drifts from thought to thought to dream.
rest.
i squirm in sleep.
twisting. finding that fit of kneecaps in back of knees.
that lovely "s".
retrofit.
cold war stones have fallen.
the bricks we possess, they follow us home.
we make our nests.
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