We are too far from dust
in this high bed for dreaming.
I am no princess, sleepless
for the sake of a cowpea
under a mountain of mattresses.
Make love to me
Twigs and all, let me sleep close to earth,
body shaped to spoon the grasp
of this planet. Let me remember
in gravity what I am made of and what owns me.
Let me be reminded of the mud
I will become.
**the beginning of something bigger, I think.