The Mattress

I have been writing stories for years
But now I am in love and all my thoughts feel like poetry.
I know how corny that sounds, but it is also true.

Six years ago, a single woman, I bought a new mattress;
I splurged, it was quite an investment.
For months I luxuriated sleeping right smack in the middle.
I was deliriously happy as the princess of my own realm.

But one day I woke with a thought of the future.
Someday, with any luck at all, I would share my kingdom with a fellow.
I suddenly realized I did not want a mattress with a selfish dent in the middle.
And thus began my semi-annual routine of turning and flipping my mattress, and,
even more amusing, intending to sleep on the outside edge, holding space,
imagining that my prince was already occupying the other side of the bed.

I dozed. I waited.

Not knowing what his response would be,
I am not sure why I told my lover this story a few weeks ago.
But he just chuckled and pulled me close,
“You silly girl, I dreamt of rolling into you, right here, in the middle.”

Maybe this isn’t a poem.
Maybe it is just short sentences, each given their own line.
It seems there is a rhythm, with very little rhyme.
Yet my life, with each breath, now is filled with so much more ….
the passion of a poem infused with grace and magic.

* annette

Poetry - Wrestling with the Angel of Romance

I.
The Angel of Romance bright suddenly is here, between us.
Luckily, I have my sunglasses on, and ask
“What is the difference between an angel and a devil?”
It swiftly silently reaches for my sunglasses.
“Damn it, I don’t believe in devils or angels!”
My sunglasses are in its hand. I reach for them and I am pulled
into its unhuman form
& before my blinded eyes you are transformed into my dreams.
Now, you are not.
We relate only as phantoms.


II.
The Angel of Romance bright suddenly is here, between us.
“Do you see it?” I ask you hysterically.
Luckily we can talk about it.
We touch each other, you hold me, stroking my head to calm me.
Together we dismantle the angel’s wings
feather by feather
And donate its fading body to science.


III.
The Angel of Romance bright suddenly is here between us
Luckily, our relationship would have been only a passing fantasy anyways.
The angel becomes your real body,
its halo is yours,
soft wings wrapping us together in my tender passionate dreams.
Though I worship your image, I have complete control over the ritual.
When I see you, to keep from embarrassing us,
I pretend not to see the faint glow around you.


IV.
The Angel of Romance bright suddenly is here between us.
Together we climb on its broad back
& are swept up into the blue blue heavens.
Luckily we each have a parachute.
Before the air becomes too thin to sustain life,
we jump, plummet down,
then caught by the air in our parachutes,
we float safely to the ground.
We laugh & lay in the grass,
talking about how exciting it was.
--By Terra Rafael