Erm...it's not a poem, it's not a story. It's a 'snippet'
I can see Daisuke doing this, that's why I wrote it.


He looked at his bed. He looked at the small cot set up on the floor.


He looked at his bed, which was covered in stuff. He looked at the cot on


floor, meticulously made by careful fingers.


He bent down and smelled his own bed. Ivory soap and fabric softener.


He got down on his knees and smelled the cot. Lavender and something unidentifiable.


He threw on his pajama's, and pondered briefly if he was crazy.


Then he shut off the light and got into the cot.


He pressed the pillow to his face, inhaled deeply and wondered if Ken knew.