Contentment
by Becky Rodia
genre:
Poetry
description:
A newer (though still pretty old), unpublished poem. Not sure if I like it, if it's still worth working on, etc. Thought I'd put it up and see what people think.
chapters
chapter 1:
Contentment
Contentment
chapter 1
—
updated 03/05/08
—
577 characters
—
0 people liked it
Contentment
Love is a bedside watch
where nothing happens.
We’re growing old here.
My bandages are still fluffed
and white, rebuffing touch.
Your hands rest in your lap,
palms up, wrists soft,
shaping the nest
that would have held me
before the occasion of
this room, these injuries.
I love my body this way –
untouchable, on fire
with the nearness and lack of you.
I love your body as you sit,
angles framing your desire
for a differing stillness,
where the wrapping falls away,
we rise and stand close,
one shadow falling across the bed.
back to top
Love is a bedside watch
where nothing happens.
We’re growing old here.
My bandages are still fluffed
and white, rebuffing touch.
Your hands rest in your lap,
palms up, wrists soft,
shaping the nest
that would have held me
before the occasion of
this room, these injuries.
I love my body this way –
untouchable, on fire
with the nearness and lack of you.
I love your body as you sit,
angles framing your desire
for a differing stillness,
where the wrapping falls away,
we rise and stand close,
one shadow falling across the bed.
Did you like this?
vote
