What was it you said

in the dark, silver-screen light
of the television set?
With the map of bedsheets spread

pinched and wrinkled.
Where we took winding roads
through linen mountain ranges.

When the white noise listened to us
weaving adventures in a
cotton atlas, slipping –

I’m sure you said something.

Something bold. Against the
pillowcase with its folded
borders. Over the mattress

where we were landmarks.
Under the wordless covers –

I’m sure you said something.

Benjamin Eaton is a Creative Writing MA student at the University of Chester, UK, whose poetry has previously been published in Pandora’s Box and Kind of a Hurricane Press. He dreams of retiring early on the proceeds of a Booker Prize-winning novel. He would also be content with the Nobel Prize for Literature.

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