Lying in bed

Lying in bed I said something about cereal

and forgetting the milk.

Shaved light and kisses.

I don’t love you,

or something like that.

There’s a field I used to go lie in

as a girl. Two trees. And the sun

through those trees across

the tall grass, and the shadow

of the trees.

Time is strange, fractured space

that feels something like truth

or the implication of it.