I know every angle of my mattress—
where the sheets slide off
and the dust gathers
where my comfort zone resides
that cool cool part of the pillow that helps my eyes
close
I know what you’ve been through—
a summer of condensation
of unflinching acceptance
because this time around
this season
ceiling fan replaced Frigidaire
and fresh cool new air
was humidity recycled
I know what you’ve been to me—
a place to lay my arms
a place to sink inside
and wallow
a place to look out from
and wonder why
the only one who knows my naked body
and accepts it
If nothing else, I know
I’ll always have you—
on my skin
in the dark
in my sweat
in the restlessness of my dreams
in the vacancy of energy
I’ll always have you there
waiting