Tossing and Turning
I hate when silence presses in at night
And my eyes syphon off all light
When sleep evades my tired grasp
And I hear my breath in whispered gasps
But I crave the moaning of the wind
And lightning that tickles electric skin
And the bleeding passion of whipping rain
That lashes the house again and again
How I loathe those gentle summer nights
When the warm sky twinkles with happy lights
And cheerful slumber visits all but me
As my mind whirls round continuously
But I love the freezing winter wind
And the warmth of someone near my skin
Arms and legs writhing, intertwined
In the cold, hard passion that blanks my mind