our bed

our bed is a contradiction
you say it’s loud like cotton balls
if that’s not enough under a muffling comforter
the dip brings us together, how I like it
you see a hole that chases dreams away
I don’t feel the dip, just you in my arms
my soft pillow of breathing warmth
keeping me alive, snug while I slumber


victor kondratas (New York, NY, 1981)