RHYTHMS

Sunk in the black of this room

the centipedes blindly ascend

cratered stucco and scramble

clinging from the ceiling in cadence

to my breathing in the abyss beneath.

The cat pads in gentle drumming

on the hardwood

muted then by carpet to gleam her eyes

at the rising dropping sound of cars

coasting past then pricks her fierce ears

to the pinging of mouse paws

galloping along a metal pipe behind drywall.

Your shallow snoring next to my ear

what you don’t know you share

with me and your skin softly scraping mine

in delicate nearly undetectable rustlings

rhythms of us fitting better and better together.