A poem about the hours of darkness spent with the love of your life. Ten years or more in the thinking so quite easy to put into writing.
Just thrust out a leg in the first throes of sleep
Drag your foot up my shin
and take its warmth
To wick away the deep set chill of a lonely
bare foot evening.
Move about restlessly
until
embedded in your favourite position
You can begin your nightly dreams.
It doesn't matter if I am displaced
to occupy a narrow ledge on the far side of the bed
It is a small sacrifice
to be able to hear your deepening breath.
I find comfort in
the random placing
of your arm
across my prone body.
It is a welcome physical contact
when you are otherwise detached,
fighting your own demons
or meeting with
long lost dearly beloveds with a sigh of happiness.
Forgetting it is me, you may cuddle up for a moment
And then recoil into your tight foetal crouch
Under the covers, tightly wound and impenetrable
Whenever I dare chance to show a response of love.
I do not mind my nightime in exile next to you
For I am content, more than content to be the one
who sees you last when you leave
and first upon your return to the real world.
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