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I wake up in the night, our bed is an ocean, I feel starkly alone
and reach out to feel your presence. An empty space, I panic,
switch on the bedside light and call your name.
You have been to the loo, ok, tell me not to fuzz, lie down and
squeeze my hand. I switch off the bedside light and the night
continues as you gently snore, it is your silence I fear.
Dawn, I wake up and count the beams on the bedroom ceiling,
eight, it’s always eight. And it worries me if I should live longer
then you can only count seven bedroom beams.
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