book of pages

you are a book of pages where i lay my head
i write the signs of struggle all down your breast
and some make scary sounds and some make no sense
tickle you and trouble your face
the rest of you is way far away

i wrote you underwater,where the boats all sound so close
i corked it up and sent it on to where your body lies
i dropped it down in the middle, and i watched it fall and fall
and spread in silver circles that wash up into your eyes
you make that drownin noise in your nose
i flip you over onto your side

but i wake up in the middle of the night, i reach out for what’s in the air
i wake up in the middle of the night, i reach for what i think is there

you are a book so thick that you will read an age
i hear your sleepin sigh each time i turn the page
you drift from wave to wave, and i from street to street
wrap each other closely around
lonely till the hour we meet

all over town men lay around with restless minds
in twins that won’t fit all their limbs without a fight
i send you telegrams for one more corner of the sheet
the breeze makes my feet feel so nude and new and
i can’t fold myself deep enough into you
can’t get up to turn out the light

but i wake up in the middle of the night, i reach out for what’s in the air
i wake up in the middle of the night, and look hard and reach for what i think is there

© 2002 c holford

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