A look of love.
A theatrical kiss.
You turn out the light, and hold me in the darkness.

I smile my plastic smile.
I yawn my cardboard yawn.
I lay my head upon your chest, and hear your steadied heartbeat beside my naked breast.

A heave of a contented sigh.
A possessive hand that grasps my thigh.
How will I get by till the distant sunrise?

I’m pretending to sleep beside you.

My face rises and falls with each breath you take,
While my own breaths expelled are so painfully fake.
My face bears the eyes that lie.
The eyes that remain open wide stare at diving swallows, disguised as shifting shadows.
While my body lies still, my mind races through meadows.

I’m pretending to sleep beside you.


You shift and turn and my eyes burn.
You wake sleepily, and draw me hungrily.
These lying eyes, I shut them quickly.
You brush a hair lovingly across my furrowed brow, kiss my forehead,
And fall back into a dream, as my eyes jolt open at the explosion of your heart dully pounding my name.

My lying eyes flash open wide.
My thoughts, they travel far and wide.
Too hard to stop these limbs that writhe…

I’m pretending to sleep beside you.

I’m pretending to sleep with open eyes
Pretending not to be living a lie.
Emotions as true as the shifting tide…
A mind alive…
A mind that has died.

Can’t go on pretending to love you.

I'm curious Rosela, if English is your first language, some the sentence structure here makes me think that you may use another tongue besides the Queen's English. I enjoyed the read, write more.

Les

Roaela,

I posted a response to your fine poem the day it appeared, but whatever I said just disappeared to who knows where. Anyway, your piece awakens some of those nights I wish to forget...the nights when my spouse and I couldn't admit we were in the same room, the same bed, the same life somehow.

I have been repeatedly reminded by your work of two things: the high quality of your craft and the closeness of your subject matter to the uncomfortable world we live in, and I thank you for both.

Peter

Les,

English IS my first language, although when i was in college i learned another language, could be that this influenced my structure, i've no idea really. when i write, structure is one of the last things on my list of considerations i suppose.

Peter,
thank you for taking time out to read, and i DO appreciate your interest. i never have enough time to write as much as i would like to...there are countless times i consider quitting my job and moving to a deserted island for a while. God knows we have enough deserted islands floating around in my country. sigh....