Flower

Toes clench

in the crumpled duvet.

Double-helix legs, bare and searing

against the cool air,

wind and turn and swirl upward.

Hands out-stretched, clasped together,

top and underside each a slightly different shade;

they move out from the centre.

Ever reaching higher,

the slender neck,

before the petals of brown and blonde

which once gusted wildly,

but now lie calmy upon cloudy pillows.

A bed-side lamp

is the only light;

it reflects droplets

on the brow, nose, and upper lip.

'Do not disturb' hangs

at the garden's entrance,

protecting against the outside.