When I think about the room
of you
I think about small green
soldiers searching for Crater Lake
I think about Cleopatra wearing
the wrong sword, a man reading
about men, roman grace
and dumb sun, the extinction
of butterflies, his voice little like mine
At the top of Sugarloaf, I counted
lego pieces until they became blue trees
I saved chess pieces and cabin porn
I prayed over medium sized coolers,
a color disturbed by the Egyptian queen
I said weather
I want the weather of you
I asked for a blanket
and you gave me a pillow
