White Sheets

My soul is wrapped in conformity
Trapped between your white sheets
and warm pillows

We talk of time and things dear
Your breast half exposed untouched
but dreadfully near

How many times has the dawn
whispered my name
Taunting, teasing, tempting me away
From the comfort
Of your conformity

I reach; you pull
we bend and twist
the sheets

Why can’t I grasp the enormity?

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