Sunday, 17 March 2024

Bed of nails

 


If I was lying next to you

on a bed of nails, piercing into

flesh and sinew. It would feel

like floating on

fluffy cloud pillows,

drifting forever on the eaves

of cosmic ripples.

 

If we were clinging tightly

to each other nightly.

Two lovers in a storm,

boat rising and crashing,

our stomachs whiplashed

against the walls.

Seasick feelings clashing,

becoming the norm.

It would all feel

like a sheet of glass,

clear, clean, and calm.

 

If we were walking hand in hand

through a harsh, desolate land,

violence in every alley, volatile stacks

of erratic concrete. Jagged sharp

and dangerous. Where at any time

peeking around the cracks starting to form

a figure could emerge at large, 

from within the gloom

and consume us in a single snarling bite.

We wouldn't even be able to put up a fight.

 

But even in that place.

I'd hold your hand tight

listenig to the starlings singing

feeling I'm walking on light.

That every footstep

was a windswept carpet of delight,

I would hold you close, looking into your eyes

and dream of so many more

wonderous nights.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

Please take a few moments 

to check out my new book "Poetic Outlaw"

available from Amazon

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CVQ5F9K8/

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Peace, Love & Poetry 
 
Kyle
 

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