Every night before you go to sleep
you tuck the words you never used
under the covers, where it's warm,
and safe, and they'll be
neither seen nor heard by others.
You save them for your dreams,
which you place beneath your pillow
where they're closer to home.
Together, over time, you can find them
under your bed, along with one sock,
one slipper, gathered dust and knotted lint.
And you ask yourself:
Is this what has become of my dreams?
Dirty scraps strewn on the floor?
You pull back the cover to find the bed empty,
and turn the pillow, thinking
maybe its all on the other side.