Theses

It’s your thing that I canto

and if ever you loved me

it’s a hidden animal, bristling

in the bed sheets.  So eat

the inches of that lingering

bit.  I can’t believe you

ever loved me.  It doesn’t

fit with the others' thinking

of me because I can’t believe

in others thinking or it gets

to me that I’m not thinking

and that’s the kind of thing

that got us making animals 

where we know we were.