those things you did

broken spines lying on the bedroom floor
gutless; no courage here, but there are
flowers springing up between rib bones
your fingers still don't know what to do with mine
and you say your clothes never fit right but that really doesn't matter
cause the innumerable blankets in my bedroom work so much better than your ill-fitting clothes
wandering hands and feet underneath
a bed of useless fabric:
clothes, blankets, curtains
and all i want to know is
did you mean it?