For years, I have kicked you while we slept
under covers, in a pre-dawn echoing
with cries from preying owls.
For years, you’ve abided my midnight, REM-reflex shots to your
side, buttocks, shins, thighs.
I fight with my dreams: assassins and kidnappers and thieves and liars and thugs and hateful, hate-filled hate-oids bearing down upon me, you, everyone.
I kick and punch and bite and grapple but they keep coming.
And, when I wake, it is you in pain.
Still, you abide.
You do not strike back.
You know what dreams have come.
Now, you’re surrounded by a cocoon of pillows:
large, small, square and cylindrical.
You feel protected.
You feel isolated.
You abide.
And I kick you while we sleep.
My husband just has these fits where he shakes the whole bed during REM. I think it’s time for king sized beds!
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Whoa!
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You’re telling me!! I feel like I’m on a storm out at sea…desperately holding on to the mattress…which could be a good thing if I wasn’t trying to sleep!!
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I’m thinking of my cousin who crashes with me…. I’m suspecting he wrote this poem…. Awesome imagery though .
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Awesome!
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I like your writing style. It grabbed me and also scared me a bit. That’s when writing affects me. Thank you.
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Good! And thanks.
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