Love Letter
Our beds have detached
from their peaceful port
by the monthly range
of the churning sea,
capsizing the mattress
in frosty froth
and floating us
from each other
on flotsam.
When desparate,
I cling to chivalry.
In a love letter,
I squeeze the drippings
from my drowning heart,
delivered by a dolphin
to your secret grotto.
But my wick
has become enflamed,
and I risk the mouths
of bigger fish,
as a feeder clinging
to a mantra ray.
Your pier at dawn
I've ground myself.
And in the light of morning,
you make a discovery.
Rising in apprehension,
sloshing in leaky sneakers,
I deliver the letter,
but alas its smeared.
Couldn't you still favor me?
The wind has calmed.
Or beds rejoined.
We touch.
I hold your feet,
as you do your situps.
You cool my fever
and stay my hiccups.
Penned By:
Chaim Rosenblum (c)2003
Mevo Modiim, Israel
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