of suppositions and countless maybes
as i lie wrapped up in him
this absurd hour doesn't quite seem so
it's only natural that i must breathe him
tease the unruly locks of his midnight hair
wish away the troubled folds of his eyelids
so maybe I'd hide under the bed
if they tried to take me away
be porcelain still
and sometimes spring out
from under my hiding place
and kiss him all better














