The bed to lie in

Slept inside the closet as a dark-eyed little girl,
A louvered door without a lock between her and the world
Rug burn on her knees, setting out to please

Met a fairy on the road beneath a silver moon
Fell into a thicket-dance of starlit shimmer tunes
Runes all down her arms, sinking in the poet’s charms

Where’s she gonna sleep tonight,
Where’s she gonna sleep tonight

Felt nubby polyester sheets inside the college dorm
Stealing secret kisses there to punctuate the storms
Always hiding down the hall, ignoring class’s call

Paced the hotel room before her master’s funeral
Watched the sun rise anyway as though there’d still be Earth
Saving every other breath, for whispers after death

Where’s she gonna sleep tonight,
Where’s she gonna sleep tonight

Spiralled down the heartbeats of her soulmate’s rhythmic chest
Thorns between the rose petals scenting all the rest
Letting go the sting, to wear a wedding ring

Her fingertips loosening,
Loosening, losing their grip on
The grip on that wakening wave
Losing that wakening wave –

Cradled babies through the milky scent of mother’s night
Watching constellations for the meaning of the rites
Laying soft-knit wraps, against the elder’s trap

Lost the rosewood bedstead in the terms of the divorced
Tore up satin sheets to weave a ward against the curse
Found the closet floor, didn’t fit her anymore

Didn’t fit her anymore.

Asked an angel lover to meet at the mattress store
Found a queen-sized bargain bed that could reform a whore
The downy feather pillow, a halo for his willow

Where’s she gonna sleep tonight,
Where’s she gonna sleep tonight

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About Jenn

Find me on Twitter @JennGruden
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