bedsheet tender_square we stood in a fallow field, ahead was a forest of bare branches— everything the dull color of winter, white frost coating all in dilution. we had the same feeling at the same time, but i can’t say what it was, only that the feeling made a screen tangible—it materialized out of of our bedsheet, stretched as though on a clothesline. we stared. it was cold outside; i felt my heartbeat throb inside my fingertips. the sheet revealed nothing, not even the stains, or the sweat of our old lovemaking. we couldn’t see the trees for the forest, we couldn’t find the future in the fibers: the sheet wrung between our chapped hands— we didn’t fold the corners. it coiled like a rope, the kind one would use to climb out a window during fire, the kind one would use in a tug of war. 211108 what's it to you? who go blather from