The evening wind
rattles the shudders
wherein sleep flees
from my eyes.
I lie awake,
staring at the
absence of solace.
The darkness replays
a symphony masquerading
as an altruistic
passion between bedsheets.
I’m shedding pedantic
shivers under covers.
What’s a poem
if her real
name isn’t mentioned?
But, like mine,
her name, I
refuse to say.

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2023 AC)

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