She sleeps like a dead weight now beside me, lowered into the night, the ropes of the day swaying around her. We know nothing about each other really. She does not know how often my ex-lover visits me in my dreams. I do not know how this new lover got in here or if she will stay. You don't love me enough, she says. You don't love me as much as I love you. As if love could be measured and we could get to some mark and say ah, now we're even. She compares herself to my ex-lover. She was the love of your life. You loved her more than me. In all things, she is a counter, a measurer. She kn