I sleep in a bed that’s not my own
It’s not yours. It’s no-ones.
I selfishly hog the covers, my white knuckled grip upon them.
Crushing me.
I don’t feel the pain. I feel a void.
Recovery is superhuman. Life denying expectations.
They recently found a hole in the universe, you know. A big one. Billions of miles across.
That is where we are together.
In the singularity, it’s a mish-mash of alternate realities.
Planets collide and immerse us in primordial ooze.
Living in a dream is a lot of work. Maybe I should ask for a raise.