How to split a body into two

                    I. 

It is one thing to handle what comes your way 

it is another to handle your snores, 

loud and vulgar like the laughter of a midnight dancer

deprived of sleep 

I lie, contemplating the night as your chest rises and your head falls 

into visions I can no longer access,

 places I'm no longer interested to explore 

I know your body by the inch, you know my brain by the corner

we are even

                          II. 

Half open, you leave each morning

the toothpaste cap, now in front of me

mine or yours?  We stopped asking a long time ago

when questioning ends, you blend like color in paint

you make a new color, your own 

                         III. 

Try a drop of oil, I suggest to you

you can rub the oil on your shoulders where it hurts 

You tell me you've been carrying boxes, weights 

I say I can relieve you from the ocean that's on your back

but you turn your head toward the bedroom door

and I stay with the television, talking senseless 

reporting a world, miles away closer yet than 

the stairway to our bed.

                      VI. 

Tonight is another dark room

the curtains are fully closed

it is awfully quiet here, under the clean linen

smelling of fresh roses

there's no snoring tonight

but I cannot fall asleep.