Hello, Lofn.
Hello, Bed. I’m sorry I fell asleep.
It’s been one year exactly since I put you on a pedestal.
I know this is a special night for both of us. (Please note the dulcet fragrance with your non-nose, the roses I watered outside the window. All for you.)
In keeping with the sincere nature of relationships, there are a million apologies to accompany our anniversary. If you don’t mind, I’d like to be the first to quench our sorrowful thirst.
I’m sorry for the late-night red wine baptisms. I have an honorary excuse, a badge, a legitimate condition that makes me officially irresponsible in the realm of fermented grapes and Giorgio Moroder.
But if you’d allow me to wax on, the mottled stains make you look like a dive-bar brawler. A truly tough cookie. You should always wear your crimson spills with pride, my horizontal warrior!
I’m sorry I sometimes sit on your face all morning writing jangly songs that never make it past the living room. I’m sorry for the both of us. (If you had more than a sheet to see, you could envision all the amazing emojis I might use to express my modern emotions. So much meaning in an eight ball and a wink.)
I’m sorry about the sleepless anxiety, the shin scratching strange angles that dig into your bed-body. The shouts, the drools, the sweaty dreams. I would kill a dollar bill to be a cool cucumber, especially when I’m passed the hell out.
I’m sorry that I return from the outland and unload my careening thoughts onto your blue and green striped comforter. You, always dashing. Me, forever disheveled. You patiently listen to these wild theories about the connected disconnection, scarcely sheet-seeing humanity through my shredded microscope. Maybe one of these days I’ll drag you up the street, we can spread out out on the floor of Two Ravens — you can feel the world the way it actually unfurls and the world can behold our static sorcery.
All I know for sure is that I’m with you tonight, Bed. Both mattress and maestro. You are my goddess, Lofn of Asgard. You forgive and forget better than the rest. Foregoing all the distractions and screens, to be here alone with you is the waking dream I could wander in forever.