Oft are the nights I lay in bed reeling,
waiting, weak for sleep to overtake me.
Weighted arms, legs, shoulders, run through my head,
and how they've carried me up staircases
gallantly through the scummy avenues
of the dirty, the damned, the tarnished, muck--
shielding my white china toes, porcelain
never feeling the sting of army green shards
from broken bottles launched off balconies
by drunks in your college town. I wonder
how much you're like them. The savored strength of
your body, how sure, softened I would feel
if your steady hands, quiet, touched my chest,
calmed my frenzied heart, silent lullaby...
Longing leads me to dreadful worry--
stability can't last. Could you and I
view "us" differently without me knowing?
Gratefulness is mine, still I pray you're true
as to never be shared with another.
But I yearn to recognize, if I'm blind.
Ah u always capture the essence of femininimity while displaying
ReplyDeleteThe effect a man can have in a relationship, delicately written with a powerful punch at the end