A COUGH IN THE NIGHT

A cough in the night
woke me, but it wasn't
mine. I looked around
but could see no one;
it was too dark.
So I called out.
"Hello." I said, but
no answer came. I must
be hearing things I thought.
Then there it was again. A
cough, decidedly feminine and
soft. Like a girl asking for
attention but to shy
to speak. Her heart
a prisoner of propriety,
held by convention.
The ceiling became close
as I stared, wondering
what type of woman would
stand and not speak. What
fears and images invade
her mind as she watches
me think of her. Hoping
that I would find her
in the dark,
but not knowing that
I too am held, held
by a fear of what may
or may not be there.
With my head covered
images of all the horned
beasts that take her shape
float before me; beating me
back away from she
that calls to me in
her less than obvious way.