BED POEM
Awkward nights, thinly worded, crackle,
Hover in corners, offer an upturned breast.
Tea rings, corners of toast, broken souls,
Squeal and hinge, and spoil at either side.
Sliding into bed your sheets rustle with
Whisper intentions, forgive with shifting hips.
Fingers sharing their touch, turning points
Distant as damp caves filled with questions,
Echoing foot steps, electric as moonlight,
Quiet as hilltops, humming on backs of wool.
Dusty virtues linked by ego and thread
Hide their tatters in the crux of a dream.
Your delicate twinkles keep me awake,
Not unlike the lucid themes I compose,My night shrill with sighing at your side.
ŠJimmy Warner Design, 2010