As we lay,
we’re lying to ourselves
Though your arms surround me,
you don’t have a hold on me.
I put my palm around and feel your pulse
but I still haven’t gotten to your heart.
And even touching face to face,
we’re not hitting our situation head-on.
Entwined in a lie,
we rest unsettled
on a pillow
but since worn out and come apart
at the seams.
I sit up and wonder
Shall we both come off this pillow sham for good?