A poem about a rough night while getting to know someone. Rough draft please comment |
She pulls the blankets over her, even though the heat clams my skin to later stink the room of sweat. I lay uncovered and unclothed; her presence is my comfort. How many hours ago had the curtains closed on the day. Her body pillow cradles into her curves grinning at me. Bragging to be her support where I cannot. I do not blame her, in this heat who wants to get comfortable on clammy skin. I wish to be the pillow. Her arms wrapping me. Legs absorbing mine. Head adhering to my chest. Even in this heat I... I... am I jealous? Of a fucking pillow. Of all things, a pillow. She turns her back to me, no longer can I see that pillow. Does she want me to touch her? I want nothing more than to feel her. To slide my arm under her pillow, the one under her head, not the one emanating pride. To wrap my other arm around her waist, tucking my knees into her knees. Maybe even enveloping her ankles with mine. The overwhelming obsession to touch her. I rest my hand on her waist, the sensation. She moves. I pull back. She needs sleep more than my need of validating her existence. This desire nearly thought crippling. So close, I can smell her, see her ribs rise with breath. I can hear the air leave her lips. But I cannot feel her. I can feel the bed move as she moves. It is not her. I try again. Tenderly placing the back of my hand against her arm. She twitches shacking off a bug. Once again I pull back. I will let her sleep. I'll stop being annoying. She doesn't like to be touched while she sleeps. She isn't yet asleep; in this heat, I'll just let her sleep. She needs the sleep. This heat is unbearable. I think as I roll over, I'll let her move in closer when she is ready. Maybe I'll wake up with our backs touching or our toes. Even in this heat her touch would be a comfort. I try not to move as my mind drifts into the chasm of dreams. A distant mumble brings me back to reality. Like bubbles of a geyser slowly at first. The mumbles turn to words; more and larger bubbles. Faster more audible. "Get away, get away" confusion of a half sleep daze "I need space! Get away!" Words turn into feet and and hands.. "I need space!" This being half my size pushes me nearly off the bed. "Get away! Go away!" I don't know what to do... still asleep confused. "Stop controlling me! I don't want you!" She says a name... it's not mine. I don't know what to do. All I want is to touch her. ******************************* Had to get this down and not just think about it before I forgot it. Please comment on what you like to see in poetry. More rhyme? More structure? Feel free to be a part of the editing process. |