Clean sheet night
On clean sheet night
they sleep a baby sleep
dream milk dreams
a white lake
white swan circling
snow fallen smooth
over every crevice.
they sleep a baby sleep
dream milk dreams
a white lake
white swan circling
snow fallen smooth
over every crevice.
For six nights they have
slipped from perfection
to wrinkled dreams.
slipped from perfection
to wrinkled dreams.
Their sheets have
accumulated residues
dead cells
colonies of mites
blood, sweat and seed
the restless mess that
thrives between the lines.
accumulated residues
dead cells
colonies of mites
blood, sweat and seed
the restless mess that
thrives between the lines.
But on the seventh day
the sheets are stripped
to new leaf
clean sheet
smooth as slate.
the sheets are stripped
to new leaf
clean sheet
smooth as slate.
‘If I were rich,’ she says
toes wriggling as if they
were about to scribble
something new, ‘I’d have
clean sheets every night!
I’d check in as
if life were an hotel,
something sweet
always waiting on my
pillow, towels folded
like envelopes containing
only good news.’
toes wriggling as if they
were about to scribble
something new, ‘I’d have
clean sheets every night!
I’d check in as
if life were an hotel,
something sweet
always waiting on my
pillow, towels folded
like envelopes containing
only good news.’
But he knows they need wrinkles.
How else would they recognise
the smell of the sun
the wind’s cool breath
filling every line
the smell of the sun
the wind’s cool breath
filling every line
the offer made every week
by a pair of clean sheets?
by a pair of clean sheets?
