Soft covered legs under soft thick blanket in a dark orange room with the blinds down.Pattering in slippers as the cellphone tinkers and jingling my keys to let you in. Shoes off, white socks, take stock, make tea. Linger in the kitchen, lights off, I want to listen. You pour out your thoughts on my bed. Words I often jiggle in my head. Out you pour, the words drop out, words I often hear in toilet cubicles. When I kick myself stammering. Excuses, not justified, rushed and blushed and embarrassing. Pull you closer as to say, I am like you but today, you are further from me than you even know. I cannot read or change you, or decide your future for you, so up you get and off you go. I close the door, rinse the mug, wipe the floor, or, lie awake, and escape, words cycling like clowns inside my head.