Sunday in CinCity. Vacation's End Edition.

The Bedroom

by Paula Bohince

Sheets boiled with lavender, the hard bed.

Handmade eye pillow filled with Great Northerns.

Cactus to the ceiling, orange corsages.

No embarrassment, a calm

that is the opposite of ambition, I think.

Mind like a diary unlocked on the dresser, pages lifting in breeze.

Like those vivid flowers.

Amethyst on a chain: external heart.

Heirlooms in a shallow basket I can look at

without regret, or regard and weep, kneeling, beside.

A water glass, my eyeglasses, arms open

in a waiting embrace. Sleeping on my husband's chest,

his undershirt dryer-warm, arresting as a cloud

in a black-and-white photograph.


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