My Position - Poem by Shirley Alexander
He said I sleep like an unborn child, naked,
with knees drawn to belly, hands clasped
palm to palm, and held tightly together
by thighs clasped tightly together, by instinct.
He said he lifts the sheet from my skin,
turns the lamp to a shadow maker,
and watches my dreams rise and fall
from his worn chair, best used for reading.
I said I am clasped, not an open book.
He said he has read me, front to back,
and he asked my permission to write
the final chapter, just before I left.
Comments about My Position by Shirley Alexander
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You