Color Wheel - Ii

Hold on; me, make a quilt– preplanned antiquity for beds that are tight and lifeless just like most marriages- tight, little truth, a show... no thanks– I like my sweat primal in the bedroom, the sharp color of our breathing free, not a possession– what you let go loves home, and moods are better talked about than left in folds– if you bleed, too afraid to speak, bitter wounds mount cold sheets– what shade of sleep is guilt to wind around your dreams. If I say I love you, every part of me is smiling- all the stitching I need to hold my mind in place.