Bed of Lonliness

Wearing only
stockings of white lace
she gazes into
a mirrored page
that lies between naked skin
and sheets,
searching for true loves face.

Upon this bed of
faded black and white
lies a book of poems
and a photograph,
she slowly starts
to read the words
so patiently to her I write.

As she enters
into a flowered pastel state,
passions fire
is undraped, exposed,
uncovered
from the waist.

Lightly touching parted lips,
I find
a tender place to kiss,
and guide my
gentle
love inside
her bed of loneliness.


Robert