The Blind I.P.

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2647/3868286560_4e14e8675f.jpg

The ‘Flaming Red’ blind, taken down and packed;
another torch gone from this room.

Division, methodical; so exact
but irony stirs in my womb.

Laying here in my ‘Mummy’ sleeping bag,
water beside me; no wine.

Not a lot left to me, with which to brag
but determined to keep what's mine.

You insisted; heads-or-tails, for the bed;
another ironical twist!

You’ve won the place, where I once laid my head
but you’ll never see, what you’ve missed.