This is how we slept – on the floor
You called it ‘futon’ I said ‘what’.
It had this same white cyan stripe pattern
I only see just now.
Then you would have crawled into this single,
too full of hope to make things unfeasible.
With naked smile lifting each rosy pale cheek,
I nearly see your shimmer, feel your supple form
seeking my warmth, would shift to my bed, just now.