"bedslats" poems
the bedslats creak to the beat of
my heart and
with no other heart to beat against
mine, its sound i loathe-- not
that i'm unglad of its existence; for
each beat calls (it silent, yells
seeking its other) to be met to be
shared-- for none seem to hear it
but my tired and distractable ear
only
in its silence ever will i rest
Sep 26, 2010
Sep 26, 2010 at 7:22 PM UTC