Midnight Interlude
|
In the night you slither into my bed, your cold shoulder at my chest. Nestled in the warmth of my sheets, you lie down to make rest. Sparse but comfortable is this bed of mine. Only you seem to think it as solely thine. Minutes to hours, the night slips away. Never in life have I asked you to stay. Illicit and cruel are your pangs for my night. After this long ordeal, we’re due for a fight! |
Posted in Aspirations by Arthur Brash at November 5th, 2009.
Lovely. Rhythmic, visual, poetic. I know what nighttime cruelty I see personified in here; I wonder, would we all assume the same demon?