For Now

Another night comes and I've still yet to sleep

under the covers

to pull at the sheet

tucked so neatly into the crevice

between

the mattress and boxspring.

The dark-blue fleece throw

unfolded and spread out

atop the comforter--

quilted, patched, and floral--

folded up again

to be placed on an empty trunk

at the foot of this bed

in the morning.

A bed that is not my own

fills some space in a corner

in the basement.

That's where I'll lay for now.

I think I feel the ceiling panels calling,

although I cannot count-to-crack their code

of small holes

in the dark

of this cold room.