Sleeping in a Warm Bed

Tonight is darkling as the child

Of the slave-woman

In shackled remonstration,

Though the sky has wintered

Far more than transient winds

Can whisper through your hair.

The starlight streaks gold and silver

Across the purling waves,

The luminescence of underground.

Sheltered by hedonistic instincts

Leading you to lair and burrow,

Digging with the softness of sleep.

Your eyes are star-spanned with water,

Reflecting the rumor that is moon-glow

Cast like actors over the night,

And fickle more than they,

Snuck down and hid like rabbits.

You nest in my hair, snake-like

And rapturous as the call of wild

Birds… birds that sing of you.

Tonight: why, tonight is no night

For singing, for nesting, for rooting

Deep beneath. You lie in undisturbed sleep,