Let Her Sleep

Harder to leave than stay; each
morning’s revelation nothing
changed is but a mad charade;
I don’t want to go –
I want to lie absorbed in warmth
of you, ensorcelled in the sensual
spell you emanate.

Your curves invite my hands to stray,
a voluptuaries cheek in each fingertip,
seeking peach-purity of consciousness;
you don’t say no, you move away,
slightly,
– an infinite hesitation.

I don’t want to go
but if I stay you will
awake; I know it means
an end to this intriguing
surreality – it’s best you sleep,
the very durst and hex
of you can rattle bones.

I’m not afraid. Your love
I fondly keep courageously
while mine for you says
let her sleep.
© 25 January 2008, I. D. Carswell