Black Blanket
You tie your shoes tight.
You throw on a sweatshirt.
You light a cigarette.
You leave your doorstep and get cozy with
the comfortable darkness.
Silence so natural and unforced that
it's somewhat stimulating.
Anonymity.
When it's three in the moring and your bed can't get you to sleep
there's a fabric of space and sky and far away planets and moons
arranged in whirls.
This bedding will embrace you,
hold you,
listen to you.
Consume you, if you want it to.
This poem is about:
Our world