The Bed
I was never comfortable with the bed;
for you it was your nest, your reading space
your communication couch to speak
with your friends;
your snack bar, your dream site;
sometimes your crying place and exhaustion module
or your chosen place to retreat from the world;
your boudoir, the stage you used to seduce me
when I wanted you.
And I did.
But the bed had so many emotions in it
so much history there for you
while I had none of these vignettes
to recommend.
I made love there
you cuddled there
I slept there
you lived one third of your life there
I never eat in bed
you dine often there.
I fall asleep on the bed
you dream in bed
I never cry in bed
you wept into the pillows there.
So it cannot be that us men
and you women really come together there;
it is the kitchen instead.
Stomachs meet with greater understanding
when we dine than when we sleep
in that square
we call the bed
where I think the sleep is always
uneasy there
for me.
Humm the bed is where I park my head
for you
it is where you bare your heart
and sooth your soul.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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