Bed Unmade
A Poem by Lepadah
A terrain
Wrinkled
Creased
Wriggled by fidgety feet
Bunched cotton
Folded layers of organic
Damask or Dupioni
Woven threads from Dubai
One more luxurious than the other
Are simply left unmade
Faint imprints
Hidden scents caught in the fabric
Nights filled with propositions
Possibilities
Expected and unexpected struggles
The unmade is the unknown
A mess more perfect then army made
To hold a memory perhaps
Or a planned return
How interesting a photograph
Matte
Framed
Hung for interpretation of the unmade
Lepadah
© 2009 Lepadah
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