He could have been my lover again that night—
a whisper of dress lifting over ears,
the tie unknotting, the sheets predictably white,
the fumbling urgency leaving us breathless, light
from lust tinged by guilt, the vanished years.
He could have been my lover again that night,
confusing past with present, desire with flight,
image with image: elbow, breastbone, sheers—
the tie unknotted, the sheets ironically white.
Entangled, our voices pitching like a kite
in a storm with vowels, bleats, stifled swears...
he could have been my lover again that night
if the night were only and alone, if right
and right had not had different names. Affairs:
the ties unknotting, the sheets iconically white
and damp, and something's broken, lost, bright
as shattered glass, as side-lit, backstage mirrors.
He could have been my lover again that night,
the ties unknit, the sheets shamelessly white.
-- Beth Gylys
from Verse Daily, September 26, 2019
http://www.versedaily.org/2019/madebed.shtml
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