She asked

She asked if she might sleep a while

On the harsh slate floor

And lay as cool as milk

Thin as gauze

We quietly watched, put some more logs on the fire.

Her opalescent skin

Took all the corners of the room in. Refracted in her mother of pearl world

Stubborn oak beams become slender columns of light.

Handmade candles, chandeliers.

Her light butterfly breathing

Soothed callouses, filled hunger.

I did as I was told

And gathered the cobweb creature in my arms

Led her to my bed.

I half expected her to be gone

In the morning, desiccated by light.

© Becky Deans

About beckydeans

I've always been a writer one way or the other. You can find out more about copywriter me at www.beckydeans.co.uk
This entry was posted in poetry, workshop pieces, writing and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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