On this Bed


https://dougcouvillion.files.wordpress.com/2012/09/dscn2986.jpg

On this bed

Was I
To die
Awaiting a summons
That never came?
That gorgeous call
Of a future that enraptured
My imagination;
I breathed the fire
of horses; the smell
of heat singed my
hair, my arms
my intestines.
But the ecstasy was unmatched,
the horror unbidden but broken
by the dare
A foreign landscape that
grew magnanimously
into a tale of
sorrow. Heartbreak.
Was it all
I was waiting for?

And on this bed
with its mouth
wide open,
was I to tie
myself to something
part dream, part
sudden, solemn, sickening
nightmare?

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3 thoughts on “On this Bed

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