deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Marriage Bed

 
The night’s heart slowly passes mean,
Soul’s chilblains settle in like ghosts
Her breathing warm, but freezing still.
 
She thinks her will commands my shame,
And words alone can conjure home,
The fractured forms her mirrors show.
 
A minuet of bones and skin,
With songs coughed out in bile and spleen
Where she believes her words have sounds.
 
Long since I fled this prison cell,
Its stains and reeks and rings of smoke.
Its micely crumbs and tattered love.
 
And now, reclaimed by desert dust,
In buttes and spreading Joshuas
A flaming dawn to long night’s end.

 
Written by Hepcat61 (geoff cat)
Published | Edited 28th Feb 2017
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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