The End Of The World In Our Usual Bed In A Night Full Of Rain* Poem by Bernard Henrie
The End Of The World In Our Usual Bed In A Night Full Of Rain*
It feels like autumn once again
and your foot brushes
my foot under the blanket.
Quietly,
softly
as though your mother
still patrols the downstairs domain,
let’s talk and I will paint over
the day old roses with red nail polish
from your purse.
* Lina Wertmüller
Monday, September 30, 2013
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5/4/2024 6:09:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
