Five Invincible Minutes

A bulldozer could pulverize the bedroom wall

And I

Would be still.

I would lay here,

For at least five invincible minutes,

With my head on a four-cornered cloud.

Only light-hearted talking allowed,

Because the room’s still shaking,

Or is it just the bed?

Or is it just my legs?

My eyes are at rest.

I look up at the ceiling fan

And its golden accents

And we breathe.

And it’s in sync.

On the brink of sleep

Or some kind of trance,

I trace the side of his face

With the backs of my knuckles.

Laying down but my knees still buckle,

And shake a bit,

Or really, both legs.

Or is it the bed that trembles?

I then notice

The chips of cement

Pushed off from the wall

And insulation’s on the floor.

A bulldozer pulverized the bedroom wall

And I,

With my five invincible minutes

Had to catch the shakes from my veins

And the soft moan of my spine.

The memory foam reminds me, pleased,

About the last sixty minutes and

Whispers why the room shakes.