The Night Laughs And I Am Thinking Of You Poem by I.J. Benjamin

If I could just sleep,
If I could just leave day where it belongs with
you, with your teeth and your skin
that is smooth and smells of honey
but the spring of death bores flowers,
bores mountains and grass and bees and
it doesn't let go.

The sheets dance a slow dance,
and it is in the smoke of an oil lamp,
a whisper of an old friend
who reminds me that
the flowers and the mountains and the moon and the
stars will
never give you
back to
me.