By My Bedside – A Poem

By My Bedside

I need you by my bedside
wrapped
in the finest turquoise sheet
barren
feet standing fast
on the wooden floor.
I need you ripened, wanton
and doughy
like a summer fair
because I cannot trust myself
any longer.

You were pleasing to my delicate
limbs
at the market when that man
of French aristocratic
decent
called my name and made me
faint and the crowd gasped in shock
as you kissed my mouth
to awaken
me
and lifted me to safety.

I am in the midst of a tribulations
called forth etcetera and anon
curses spewed into my mind
by an obsessed god
whose time rises with golden reluctance
at the door.

Do not answer it!

But by my bedside stay.
There is a story your face tells
of depraved childhood
arts in the morn and
crafts
of neglect in the afternoon
science explorations at
sundown.

You see
where your arm is not so white
let me feel the skin
how cool it is.
I bite my tongue at the compassion
that slips down my throat.
I need you to stand
so that your shoulders are revealed
by my bedside
and let the demons and the angels
grieve
allow the gods to
cry
for once.

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6 thoughts on “By My Bedside – A Poem

  1. The opening stanza is just so well written. Urges the reader to continue and explore the mystique that’s about to unfold.

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