Posted by: facetothewind | February 7, 2004

Lying in Bed (waiting for Paul)

Lying in Bed (waiting for Paul 2/7/04)
Kehena Beach, HI

I lie in bed waiting for my date to arrive.
Paul is his name, so blue and so blonde.
He’ll be here after dinner. So I wait and I wait.

Come through the screen door on the side of the house
And find me in bed just waiting and waiting.

The chatter in my head goes something like this:
What should I wear? Boxers or briefs?
A tight t-shirt would be good.
Maybe something with a zipper and a buckle.
Men love to unwrap their catch.
That precious long zip and that sweet little clank.
Should I wear my form fitting jeans to bed?
Maybe some boots so he can pull them off.

I’m 40 now. 3 candles by the beside hide the gray hairs
The ear hairs the nose hairs that abdominal pooch.

What shall I be reading? A novel a biography or something much lighter?
Don’t want him to think I’m too deep. At least not deeper than him.
Can’t read by candlelight. Scrap that.

What position is best? Should I be on my side so he’ll get in bed behind me?
Or is that too passive?
Should I pretend I’m asleep when he comes in?
Am I too stinky or not stinky enough?
Should I shower or should we do that together?
We must be at equal levels of grime.

I lie in bed waiting for my date to arrive.
Somewhere about 10:30 I begin to lose hope that he’ll ever show up.
I sleep lightly, ready to awake with sound of his car.

But only the rain comes.
I blow out the candles
And lie in bed listening to the sound of the rain dripping from leaf to leaf.
Poly-rhythms form with each drop. 3 over 2. Then 2 over 3.
Not difficult. Not difficult. Not difficult. Not difficult.

Now I lie in bed waiting for dawn to arrive to stop the pain.
Words from a deep place well up and carry the morning light:
Night my love, is anything but empty.

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