Tuesday, June 16, 2015

The Virgin Villanelle _ May 27th, 2015

I went to sleep again last night, as I do most,
suspending our words above our heads.
The bed has no head board nor a left post.

The window and the river beckons the coast,
illuminated by ferry lights, uniting our beds.
I went to sleep again last night, as I do most.

The calmer and simple talk, dreams boast.
Blur and forgotten faces are the day's shreds.
The bed has no head board, nor a left post.

Dawn collides with the meek smell of toast.
The duo barge and transit vessel treads.
I went to sleep again last night, as I do most.

Sheets weigh on my breast like anonymous host.
She exists in three rooms, or three heads.
The bed has no head board, nor a left post.

The trinity exits the apartment and my head leads a roast.
I Meticulously fold the weights just before I take my Meds.
I went to sleep again last night, as I do most.
The bed has no head board, nor a left post.

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