Every night is the longest day-
I cannot turn away or rest.
Like the girl awake and lost
on the brambly path
into the twisted forest,
I am caught between the blazing
roses and the waiting crone
at her doorstep. I look up
from my pillow, alone,
and see you,
the lover, asleep
in your casket-
eyes, hands, penis
finally at rest. The world
drifts sightless, while I wander
the lit rooms, sit in each
chair and stare into the blind
windows. Past time
I see you returned, young
and perfect, and I come back
once more to bed, my body
open and asking
you in, pray
the hag has faded
into her hut,
so we can lie together and fit
into the luxurious darkness.
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