I woke up in the middle of the night,
and realized that I am more free than I have ever been in my life.

Yet,
All I want to do
is show up on your doorstep--
perhaps in one of those rainstorms you love so much better than me--
and beg you to strip the gold leaf from the bars,
because this cage I’ve built of one-way fantasies
is still better than sleeping alone,
and the gilding is all I have to offer
that could possibly compare with the brilliance of her sun.

I've mentioned the new puppy before
so it won't come as a surprise
that I'm reading a book about how dogs think.
I want to know how the flea collar feels
around his thickening neck, next to the skull
and crossbones collar, and why he tucks
his tail under when he sleeps,
and if when he is, for a few hours, in the crate,
which seems cozy enough, he devises
a plan to pay me back for this captivity.
I want to understand his relentless
drive to be where I am, to trod down the hall
and back again with his heavy paws
("That is going to be a big dog," everyone says)
even into the bathroom, which I typically
prefer to be private.

He won't go out in the rain unless
I'm standing out there too, both of us soaked
to the bone. He won't sleep without one eye
on me if I move from the space beside him.
Why would this animal
devote himself to me so utterly, I who
really can't be trusted not to throw shoes
or swat a nose when his love bites bite
too hard.  I who throw a fit about the ***
just inside the door, I who deny him access
to the cat.  I who write poems
about his private life and study him like a ******,
while he goes on sleeping.

curled next to you in my bed
is what i'd rather do
instead of lay in bed alone
thinking of things unknown
at least i'd get some rest
knowing that i'm lying next to the best
even if i couldn't
you'd try to sing me to sleep
with your voice i'd love to keep

I fell asleep on you, one night, I regret.
And now I fret..
In my slumber you did unspeakable things to me
And now I wonder
How can I get over what took place?
I knew better than to trust you
Knew better than to be with you
And yet I did it
I slept.
Fell asleep on you .. Lay naked with you
And now I wonder how can I undo what's already been done
how could I enjoy such an awful song.

For I was wrong...
You see,
I knew better and so did he

There's a tired feeling
That I sometimes get
When I'm not ready
For the day just yet

So I squeeze my eyes shut
Roll over in bed
Pull the blanket up
And over my head

I pretend that it's dark
And the sun isn't there
So I can get more sleep
Without a thought to spare

I want to wake up
With the first tendrils of morning
Peeking through the curtains
And feel the warmth of you on my back.
I want to roll over,
Breathe you in,
And sigh with all the content that my chest can hold.
I'll look at your sleeping, relaxed features,
Recalling all the mornings and midnights like this one
Where I lay beside you and smile
Disbelieving.
Your skin is hot and sticky from the cramped space of my toosmallbed
And your breathing tends to light snores
that lull me to sleep most nights.
Your arms are stretched above your head
And I run my finger over their graceful lights and shadows.
Your back rises and falls with every glorious breath
and your eyes flutter, hidden beneath those long, dark lashes.
Blissful, I smile,
And wrap myself into you,
Wanting to soak up your essence,
And sleep in the high of your presence in my bed.

My touch rouses you briefly,
Just long enough for you to turn on your side
And wrap your arms around me,
Accepting.


But it's time to wake up for real,
And realize that all that's left
Is the memory of your embrace.

I thought sleeping
Is the only passage
To the world
Without your existence
But here you are
Inside my dream
Hugging me tight
Giving another shot
To change me and you
Into us
And I pray
Not to see the daylight
Until reality forces me
To live my nightmare
All over again

She'd slept bad.

Thoughts of John
invaded her head
as she lay in bed.

She'd hugged her
Teddy close; kissed
him pretending.

Stroked Teddy's
head, his arms,
kissed him repeatedly.

Her sister snored.

Her sister talked
in her sleep.

Elaine wished
for morning.

Wished for dawn's
light and birdsong;
wanted John there
in her bed;
in her head.

Breakfast was a chore;
she didn't want to eat;
her mother said
she had to: none of
that slimming nonsense.

She ate feeling full,
feeling ill.

Lovesick her
father said jokingly.

Her mother
was not amused,
said just a slimming thing.

Elaine ate and mused dully.

Wondered if John
would kiss her again.

Did she want him to?
She didn't know;
half yes, half no.

The kiss made her
feel out of her
comfort zone;
made her feel
unknown feelings;
buzzes in her *****.

She sipped the lukewarm tea:
sugary sweet, drowned in milk.

Her sister chatted about boys
and what so and so did.

Her mother said boys
were not for breakfast talk.

Her father said Elaine
-his Frumpy hen-
didn't need to slim,
was OK as she was.

Elaine wanted John;
wanted a kiss;
wanted him to touch;
a little not over much.