a.m. switchboard

her arm fell the weight of sleep
to my chest;
the gasping organ in
brief exhalations
sounding just enough to
turn a breathing body towards
my own.
Through cracks of this settled
home, winter found its way
in, crowding from paintless
walls inward
to where heat
representing mortality
imprinted on white egyptian
cotton sheets.
a.m. switchboard,
electricity burned at the wires
of this brain,
kept self from sleep.
These connected tongues
begged attention
from ears finely tuned
internal
and with heavy language
resurfaced, widened
glassed vision.
Fear spoke, bland
on my palette, without word.
Took company, the twitching
limb, like fire to
calm this
chatterboned soul.
A distant bell rang out
hollow, vibrating memory
from rested states
while night shadowed
the cornered streets
outside my window.