my beloved steals the sheets
because she likes the windows open
on thunderous April nights
when it gets cold enough
to thoroughly chill a master bedroom
no matter how warm two bodies were
only hours earlier
no matter how the sweat began to bead
on their foreheads
no matter how it mingled together
in their embrace
no matter how they lay panting later,
sated with sweet love.
and so I let her steal the sheets.
Noises From the Machine
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