(1847-1920 / United States)

Sleep My Lovely

I watch you, as you sleep,
the glow, a rosy hue
of Roman cheeks,
a tiny trickle, as if glued
onto the crease of lips
so red and so inviting,
your hands asleep
in what they call the warmest spot
of living humans,
I wish I could,
and surely would.
I am your guard tonight,
just sitting here,
prepared to be the death
of horny demons,
should they forget their place
and wander in.

I have now put the final cork away,
and opened up the kitchen clock
to rip the living battery
and put an end to it,
the pulse of time.
I shall be happy just to sit
here, by your side,
and dream about the warmth
of you, in all those feather downs.

For Angie

by Herbert Nehrlich

Comments (1)

Amazing how a romantic such as he could live in ill repute hi genuis surely warranted a literary salute your sketch of him will stir some thought about greatness and its price where warmth of heart can die quickly and feel like artic Ice I enjoyed your write julia I will surely like to read more of you