I was never comfortable with the bed; <br />for you it was your nest, your reading space <br />your communication couch to speak <br />with your friends; <br />your snack bar, your dream site; <br />sometimes your crying place and exhaustion module <br />or your chosen place to retreat from the world; <br />your boudoir, the stage you used to seduce me <br />when I wanted you. <br />And I did. <br /> <br />But the bed had so many emotions in it <br />so much history there for you <br />while I had none of these vignettes <br />to recommend. <br />I made love there <br />you cuddled there <br />I slept there <br />you lived one third of your life there <br />I never eat in bed <br />you dine often there. <br /> <br />I fall asleep on the bed <br />you dream in bed <br />I never cry in bed <br />you wept into the pillows there. <br /> <br />So it cannot be that us men <br />and you women really come together there; <br />it is the kitchen instead. <br />Stomachs meet with greater understanding <br />when we dine than when we sleep <br />in that square <br />we call the bed <br />where I think the sleep is always <br />uneasy there <br />for me. <br />Humm the bed is where I park my head <br />for you <br />it is where you bare your heart <br />and sooth your soul.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-bed-5/
