The Nap (Post Fight, Post Reconcilation)
Side by side, we slid to a dry, still, place.
It was not a woeful drought of age or dust,
the softer dryness of a tear-trailed face.
We never used to find this quiet space.
Any closeness quickly clambered into lust.
But side by side, we slid to a dry, still, place
where hands touched in a sweat-free interlace,
fatigue overwhelming pheromone fuss
with the softer dryness of a tear-trailed face.
Some other time we’d find that moist embrace
where pleasure mounts to such synaptic bust
I find myself side-sliding to a place
as blank as emptied well, as capsized chase.
(My brain reacts so badly to heart’s trust,
the softer dryness of a tear-trailed face.)
But today, we two, exhausted by the pace
of time and life and words like ‘should’ and ‘must’,
side by side, slid to a dry, still, place,
the softer dryness of a tear-trailed face.
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First off, want to say how gladdened and moved I am by Obama’s statements re gay marriage. (Hurray! And Finally! But mainly just plain Hurray!)
Secondly, I am posting the above villanelle for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. (If you like villanelles, do check out that category on this blog. I’ve done a lot – I’m not sure this is such a good one, but it hasn’t been circulated very much.) (And no, the elephants sitting up in bed do not really fit with either the poem or gay marriage! I just liked the picture.) (And no, they are not Republican elephants.)
Finally, thanks as always for your patience and ongoing support. It is much appreciated on this end.

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