NIGHTGOWN, WIFE’S GOWN
Where do people go when they go to sleep? I envy them. I want to go there too. I am outside of them, married to them. Nightgown, wife’s gown, women that you look at, beside them—I knock on their shoulder blades ask to be let in. It is forbidden. But you’re my wife, I say. There is no reply. Arms around her, I caress her wings.
©
Copyright, Robert Sward. |