Twisted Sheets Poem by Robin Bennett

Welcome to midnight,
stripped of color-
Land where today,
trades places with tomorrow;
Where lover's knots,
mingle in twisted sheets.
Time when a stranger in bed,
is common.

Drunk on whiskey,
and high on lust-
No candlelight or
ambrosia live here.
Your prize?
A cheap mattress,
and filthy duvet,
Accented by fake flowers,
caked in sex dust.

Now you lay trapped,
lids glued shut-
Pretend sleep,
is a long nightmare;
Even the dim witted,
moon is laughing.
Splashing his light,
preventing your escape!

Might as well collect
your dirty laundry now-
The stench is,
never easy to wash off.
Ivory soap,
ninety-nine percent pure,
how ironic!
You stand under the water,
until it turns ice cold.