Close The Door Poem by Jonathan Ballam

Close The Door



Come inside and close the window
The thick sun is still asleep.
I’m left to lie on aged sheets, that
I grasp in little mounds like children.

Come inside but don’t come too close,
I have a tender place I won’t want you
To touch.
I mask it with the reflections
in the window, watching me.
As strange as birds they hover in the
Sunlight, stirring my clammy head.

Come inside and feel the carpet
with your naked foot.
Your pink toes prickle, play,
Let go of the music.

I have a tender place to touch,
It feels warm as your hand, soft
As your duvet face. I want you
To hold it like the pillow’s shoulder
You cry on

Come inside here, close the door.
Feel my creases, come under my lamplight
I’ll tuck you in close to me, where you
Can lie in the shade of my tender place
Swim in the old ripples of my heart

The long light touches
the tips of your lips
you are too supple
to touch.

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