TELEVISION POEM

I need you to show me things.

If you were in my room

I could breathe, I could slide

out of my dress beside you while

we pass the night back and forth

casually, the way small children kiss.

The thought of you is a low hum,

a quiet voice in this dark house

that makes me lazy. I have watched you

like a sick kid glued to the screen-

your soft light touches my face.