If Could Reach 1971 Poem by Terry Collett

Then after
ECT
we both lie

on the beds
in the room
for us to

recover.
I wake first
from a sleep

(we'd been drugged)
look around,
see her there

still asleep,
laid out there
all in white

like a corpse,
but she breathes,
her small breasts

lift and fall.
Light shines though
the large window,

curtains wide
open now.
She awakes

and sees me.
How are you?
She asks me.

Thumping head,
I reply.
Yes me too,

she whispers.
She puts out
her right hand.

I put out
my left hand
and they meet

in mid air
and embrace.
I can sense

her life pulse
through her veins
and she mine.

We lie there
facing each,
and knowing this

that we'd kiss
maybe more, if
we could reach.