A Misunderstanding

night comes like
a zombie and
it sleeps with
you and
though the bed
has been cleaned
and perfumed
the hours turn
into stinking
skunks

somehow you
know how to maintain
that poise
of a creature
with beautiful eyelashes
and soft hands
still skin to the
pillows
madly in love
with
that gift of
sleep

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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