The Ceiling Has Four Eyes Now Poem by Julia Robinson

I got used to it
so that I liked
no one caring:
airs opened
to free glide
in amongst the breezes;

I was the only one
under a forgotten tree
to gingerly rub my knees
after crash landings.

The sheets hugged me
at night when I lay
star gazing at
the white ceiling
with my day’s dream -
known only to me.

And suddenly
You are there -
Caring:
a third to enter
into the company
of me and my life
drinking of these waters.

Suddenly
I want you there
even when we can’t;
I forget you too
have your dreams
where I am not.

Confused,
I rub my knees
wanting you.