Literature of the night

Each night
In bed
Upon the pages of our sheets
We write stories

Each face
A new character
Each toss each turn
A new line

Few faces linger
From pillow
          to pillow
Chapter to chapter

And sometimes
They surprise
By uttering the unexpected
          --An unpredictable turn
Or by what we discover
In us
In their absence
In the ominous chill
                    of an endless bed
In the flatness the pages suffer
Upon their departure

Sometimes
We wake up to a new face
          A welcome cameo
Or perhaps even more:
The protagonist of a short story

And always
We return
To the familiar
          --Our life's major work.