By deevaa Date: 6 June 2000
when you whispered to me
that you sleep in 'spoons' with your pillow
that you imagine it was me
my warm body
pressed back into you,
you imagine
that the curve of my belly
is the perfect place for your hand to rest.
You imagine that you can just about smell
my Salvador Dali perfume
as you drift off into the place
where sleep over comes your senses.
As soon as you confessed that you wake
wrapped about your pillow,
a crooked smile on your lips
because in your dreams you are next to me.
Thats when I knew....
at that moment, I knew.
So, until the time when you can trace
my lips with your finger tip,
until the time when we can tangle ourselves in the sheets,
together
until the time when we can giggle in the dark
as we whisper the next instalment of our comic book hero.
until we you can cook me angel hair pasta
until we can fish ice out of our glasses and chase
tiny rivers gliding down slick skin, lapping at them, with egger tongues.
until we share kisses that taste like desire...
until I learn the sensation of the tiny bud of metal hidden behind your smile.
until this time,
I offer you my gift,
a cheap pillowcase brought to life by art.
the curve of my hip, the swell of my breast,
the art of me.
for you.
until the time when we can sleep in spoons.
until then.