Dark Elegies   

My limbs are heavy,
But not with the languorousness
Of lovemaking,
When you sink into the bed,
Like a child making snow angels,
Amid cushiony drifts.
This heaviness threatens to—
Pull me down
Into free-fall darkness,
And I lie—
Like Lucifer—
On a burning lake,
Of bitterness,
And though I vow not to imagine you—
Loving someone else—
I do,
And my hands cup,
Waiting for the nails.

© 2006 Adriana Davies