This is the night after she talked until her own unconsciousness came. My silence was an imperial order. Her eyelids obedient slaves. Though not Slavic, her entireness gave away. Curious this gift to offer sleep to bodies wearied of their twitchy souls. Laughing, I would summon boredom to explain it. But the mornings after always un-lie me. Then the bed was left one-sided. Four solid feet prevented it from overturning. Such wooden legs I envy to stand on everyday. Would it not be grand to be in bed while we stand? And, standing as a double-trunk tree, where the trunks met to form the main trunk visible would be one small branch leaning down and a woodpecker's hole on the back. Laughing, I would summon boredom to explain it. But, hey, I am amused beyond boredom, beyond sleep, behind beyond. And I am sure many a small branch will grow thick during our short eternity. Hail, Spring! Ha, ha, ha! Thou art in me!
