Kumquat

With you, came the bedspread
a Joseph's coat of velvets
pink as my walls ' bought madly to show
you'd come out, left her, didn't care.
Your cushions, stacked,
the plush, the plain, the ribbed
and all your books - a pile feet high
on my floor.

We lay, innocent as babes
you behind my back, talking
til I slept ' kept the bedside light on.
When I stirred, you started over, right away
some great thought or joke or pain.
Some days, before my eyes were even opened
We had laughed or cried.

For months you were my best love.
Lying ripe on the covers -
a kumquat, so you claimed,
or drawing back the curtains
to look out through glass.
You showed me yourself in the mirror.
"Is this body forty eight? Is it?
What d'you think?

Now my bed is plain.
You took off, took those textures
bared my boards
and spoiled me for those straight after,
those who didn't wait for me to wake
so they could say:
"Darling, I moved myself! Let me tell,
let me tell you this ¦