POEM - Land Wars in the Late Suburban Period

We begin each night with me

Resting my weary carcass
Supporting myself on you
Right arm draped across your chest

My left hand is buried

In the cool recessed cavern

Below your pillow draped with graying hair
My right leg hooked over your right knee

Nestled close and comfortable

In amorous entanglement
You allow this moment

Only if I remember the rules

As my breathing deepens and slows
There is one last requirement to fulfill

I must rise and adjust

Shift my whole person a step back
Separating from your tender fold
Repositioning to a pre-determined safe distance

I'm told I am a restless sleeper
My arms flinch frequently, performing
Body spasms and jumps erratically

Prone to act out my dreams

In disconcerting jolts, reckless
Kicks and tremors arriving in waves

Makes you a restless sleeper, too

I return here every night 

To make the same bad decision

To sleep on my back 

Despite the apnea

Despite the tremulous snores 

That plague your every attempt at sleep

I look forward to your command 

“Roll over on your side!"

It is another thing that you do

To prove again just how much more

You care for me

Another thing I insist pursuing

To show I refuse to learn my lesson