This affable conjugality
seems a trite light-weight.
You like it obviously, it’s
an ecclesiastical arrangement
of your making; perhaps
pay-back for years of male
dominion – if that was how
we originally agreed to
share quiescent space.
These days we have
our own rooms to populate.
The marital bed is vacated –
wasted munificence although
the paraphernalia remains
in place awaiting resumption
of non-connubial hostility.
That mute invitation to
convene is refused by
negotiated intransigence –
which says ‘camp in the
study on your own terms
and free of restriction’
– while you wilfully
explore a miniscule
bed in a spare room,
finding it an agreeable
place to snore loudly
between solid books
and etheric TV shows.
© 26 April 2008, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment