All those worries
with their ragged edges,
all those nights
tossing in their beds,
the fevers, the shivers,
the dreams torn,
the falling, the jammed flow,
the empty bowl,
I would soften the world
if I could for you,
But it softens us,
over and over,
turning us, tumbling us,
scraping away
the layers,
even the one
our names on it,
even the one
we thought
we could never
do without.