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Description
Tonight I'll find myself in bed, soft in the naked dark,
In sheets that cling to my every countour -
Concavities that shall remain unnamed,
Recognized on other days, but for now disregarded
And forgotten among other physical traits
For which I, myself, am favoured a 'rarity' -
The top of my hair down to my shoulders sinking,
Lost in a mess of pillows and warmth.

And on this firm mattress with its soft sheets,
Rests made of silk and feather,
Feeling myself melt into the fabric
Much like ice on warm flesh,
Even as I twist and turn I feel the flow
Of the waves of linen, bitterly beautiful.

And what shall I say when all goes still?

"Please try again" will flit across my mind,
I will push it out.

"Don't try again" will linger a bit longer
But meet with the same conclusions.

Tonight, instead of initiating another debate,
I will simply turn over and tune out,
Embracing the silence into the mixture,
(Ice and water and skin and a tentative shot of vodka)
Simply because I can.

Description
Tonight I'll find myself in bed, soft in the naked dark,
In sheets that cling to my every countour -
Concavities that shall remain unnamed,
Recognized on other days, but for now disregarded
And forgotten among other physical traits
For which I, myself, am favoured a 'rarity' -
The top of my hair down to my shoulders sinking,
Lost in a mess of pillows and warmth.

And on this firm mattress with its soft sheets,
Rests made of silk and feather,
Feeling myself melt into the fabric
Much like ice on warm flesh,
Even as I twist and turn I feel the flow
Of the waves of linen, bitterly beautiful.

And what shall I say when all goes still?

"Please try again" will flit across my mind,
I will push it out.

"Don't try again" will linger a bit longer
But meet with the same conclusions.

Tonight, instead of initiating another debate,
I will simply turn over and tune out,
Embracing the silence into the mixture,
(Ice and water and skin and a tentative shot of vodka)
Simply because I can.