• We’re lying here in the dark,
    But this isn’t the dark of silence.
    This is the dark that accompanies deep thought.

    We’re lying here side by side in a bed too small,
    Staring at the ceiling, our faces reflecting the light,
    The light of the moon creeping through shades.

    Suddenly, you speak up, but you don’t move.
    You say, “You know, in the grab bag of life,
    I got completely screwed.”

    It doesn’t surprise me that you say this,
    The only thing that surprises me is what I don’t.
    I just run slim fingers through feather hair.

    I want to tell you that you’ve got it good.
    That, to quote Charlie Bartlett,
    You could have been born a single-cell organism.

    I want to say that your mom could be a whore
    On the streets, selling herself for the money for your
    Precious hair dye. But I don’t.

    I don’t say that you could have been born
    With a fatal disease, or that you could be
    A starving boy in Africa, destined to die young.

    I think to myself, that in fact, you are
    Quite blessed indeed. We often overlook
    Logic, in favor of those fickle hormones.

    But I don’t say these things. You’re too touchy.
    Instead, I tell you, “Well, at least you’ve got
    Me.”

    And you look at me with that smile, and you
    Say, “Thanks for having my back on this one,
    Doll.”