You said my mattress
was too soft. We’d sink
into the middle, swallowed
whole, every night, bodies
clunking, angular hard parts
drunk without light. Spelunking
into what? Gruff gnarled breaths
between teeth while the night
spewed her infinite vacancy.
Whenever I’d wake, you’d
already be staring back at me.
Why shouldn’t the bed consume us?
Sinking into the dark cavernous
recesses of nowhere, the unimaginable
no place of cold empty space.
What was down there? So soft,
such unbearable, soft nothing.