In the bedroom

In the bedroom (20th May 2008, 11.59pm)

In the bedroom, you lie frozen like
a sort of primitive statue. I can’t tell if
you’re badly carved or simply broken,
missing some vital part that keeps you
upright. You’re not uptight; you’re
so laid back you hardly move; why can’t I
move you? Move in me; you want to,
don’t you? You climb slowly, like a
fragile spider, lifting up your beautiful
legs and scuttling in slow motion across
the room, rummaging in your bag for…
something blue? Small white pills for thrills?
The fix for one organ debilitates the other;
so which should I prize more in a lover?