A light out like a life out, lit

When you come home to bed.
What goes on.
You are a person
coming home into a room.
A bed in the room. Washing
your face or cleaning your teeth, my ears.
A brush of felt. Calming myself down
a bit. Panting a bit as long as there's a hidden delicate beam.
Guilt trapped in ecstasy.

She'll forget me when her brain goes.
She'll forget me when her brain goes.