You sleep now with Lisa beside you in your shared bed both dreaming of
other things and letting the cosiness of sleep’s hold take you off to
other climes and other times and let all things of now be held at bay
and put aside and Lisa remembering the kiss at school and other places
and your shared love and the time you were found out by nosey people and
the price you paid and how her father had beaten her black and blue and
you and your father had such a row and words spoken loud and harsh that
the healing took years to heal and your mother out of her mind with the
worry of it all and Mona she’d say how could you and that girl and all
that business with kiss and feel and finger’s touch and in our house too
and in your room and such deeds that the saints would blush at and the
priest condemn and what am I to say to the neighbours and the sisters at
the school and Father Denis and the gossip and the talks behind our
backs and how your mother and father moaned and cursed and how the other
girls shunned you both and wouldn’t speak but laugh and snigger with
each other and it was hard in those days to see each other after that
Sunday when you made love in your bedroom and no one knew until later
when it all came out and all hell broke loose and days followed days
when you were split up and watched and curses flowed that even a good
catholic would blush to hear and how the sacred lake as you called the
pond where you went in secret and kissed and held there far from other’s
eyes and tongues and the sisters at school with their beady eyes
watched you and their sacred tongues preached and spoke and poked and
pinched the flesh of sinners so they said and all seemed lost until all
was forgotten with the passing days and years and ticking of time’s
clock but you both knew your love and touch and feel and saw and touched
when time and place allowed but dreams and memory are twins of the same
mother but now as Lisa places her left hand upon your leg in sleep’s
hold and lays her head upon your breast in warmth’s hold and feel and
you knowing in the depths of sleep the gentle touch and feel of her love
and gentle hand and finger’s feel that she does love and need you still
as you in your deep dreams and waking hours remember all and want no
end to all this and love and love’s firm hold on you and her until the
dreaded death picks and pricks your aged flesh and parts you to a double
grave where none shall part or separate until the ash to ashes dust to
dust blend and all is done and at an end.
- THE END -
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