The man under the bed br The man who has been there for years waiting br The man who waits for my floating bare foot br The man who is silent as dustballs riding the darkness br The man whose breath is the breathing of small white butterflies br The man whose breathing I hear when I pick up the phone br The man in the mirror whose breath blackens silver br The boneman in closets who rattles the mothballs br The man at the end of the end of the line br br I met him tonight I always meet him br He stands in the amber air of a bar br When the shrimp curl like beckoning fingers br & ride through the air on their toothpick skewers br When the ice cracks & I am about to fall through br he arranges his face around its hollows br he opens his pupilless eyes at me br For years he has waited to drag me down br & now he tells me br he has only waited to take me home br We waltz through the street like death & the maiden br We float through the wall of the wall of my room br br If he's my dream he will fold back into my body br His breath writes letters of mist on the glass of my cheeks br I wrap myself around him like the darkness br I breathe into his mouth br & make him realbr br Erica Jongbr br