Fast Poem: #18 The Emotional Availability of Sverre the Shipless

My penis fell off in the night.
it lay on the counterpane
next to her night clothes,
a lonely pink thought
without a pen.
I tried to put it back again
but it was cold & burned my hands.

She came home at 6PM.
Indecently incomplete,
I hid behind the bathroom door.

She saw my penis on the bed,
giggled & knocked & said everything would be okay.
Easy enough for her to say.

I cracked the door to watch her change;
the office heartache stepping out of
designer labeled pinstriped skin,
emerging from closet shadows
a primal goddess clad in nothing but air.
Breasts whole and firm were there,
and behind soft blond curling hair,
Sacred Pink pouted
intact.

Easy for her to say
Everything would be okay.

The Goddess donned pajamas;
primal splendor disappeared
into silky ecru clouds;
a sophisticated sorceress,
aura rippling in breezes
of her own design.

She dropped my penis
into the pocket of her dressing gown,
and walked down the stairs.

I heard her boil water for tea,
pop a cork and add brandy

She called up the stairs,
told me once again not to worry
Then tuned in an episode of something
on TV.

Eventually,
I reluctantly
found sleep.

The moon in the window
woke me at midnight & my left hand,
as is my habit,
checked for bits
of this and that & thrilled to find,
resting, warm & happy
the recently errant penis
safe and sound where it belonged.

At my side,
my lover murmured
sacred vowels and ancient rites
invoking buff spirits
and demons with six pack abs.

The thought came to me,
I should keep her close
for eternity
or flee.

© 2009 Chromepoet

© 2008-2012 Chromia Poetics