bed sheets

don't move, my love. you might jostle the
moment and then it will be gone. cling to the
bed sheets, don't look outside. the sunlight bathes us in
lemon custard; we are warm, in love. outside it's cold. outside are
strangers who do horrible things to Jesus' little children.
outside are people who kill to live, who steal to eat,
who hate in order to feel loved. if i step out that door i'll become
someone i don't like. so stay here with me. love me for the judgmental coward i am.