Big bed

Until now I’ve never had a big, double bed.
I never needed one, nor do I ned it now
because I’m not in the habit of laying spread
across its surface—just don’t fancy it somehow.

I always sleep huddled at the wall anyway.
But it came with the flat. It’s so big and empty
and I feel so small when I alone in it lay,
wishing that you were laying here right next to me.

But I cuddle just the pillow, imagining
all the places you could have me at if you pleased
and all the things we could be possibly doing
to each other, so it would be true love feast.

To make the intercourse even more whimsical,
Tom Odell’s “Another Love” underscores the moves.
That is the perfect song as it’s so rhythmical.
Aligning to its rhythm lovers behoves.

Unfortunately, of that I can only dream
laying in my big bed alone, baptising it
instead of a spousal junction act with a stream
of tears ’cause you’re afraid of the love I emit.