Close Space

I.
Worst sleep of my life.
my head was crowded.
Spirits use me like a phone booth
if I let my guard down.

Couldn't sleep.
Couldn't breathe.
They wouldn't shut up:
many languages,
some long dead,
screaming,
screaming,
screaming.

Only you
make it go quiet.
They leave me alone.
The pieces fit.
I sleep like a stone.

II.
At a party where I didn't know anyone,
voices all around,
language that really ought to be dead,
but keeps hanging on.

There was no place to land.
I kind of drifted about.
Suddenly, the wind stopped.
I looked up, and found
my body had perched next to you.

I felt so much better,
like I was safe.

(We always keep an eye out.
And when we're in the same room,
each one knows where the other is.)

But then I had to walk away because
la proximité était inappropriée. 
So difficult not to close the space.



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