I could be your curtain girl
your mum would never know
the world can’t hurt me when it’s observed through a closed window
the final applause is what I live for while I scream into your pillow
I apologise if you heard us
I just think your son’s magnificent and I’m sure you would know how he generalises too much about things that should not be felt lightly
but I understand his intentions are only ever good
like when he falls asleep with such ease yet feels privileged to be awakened by my startling movements
responding with honourable mumbles
and they’re all a curtain girl needs to feel satisfaction
besides the cigarettes that often don’t reach the edge of the pavement
they either roll off the curb to find love in a gutter
or with a careless hand, tumble through cold air til they reach their early grave
splintering embers are a sign of life
or at least one that hasn’t burnt out entirely
to make your bed and lie in it means enduring sharp nails piercing your flesh but to sleep is to accept your fate truly and ignorantly then dream of searching for something more
like the haven of your arms finally feeling safe enough
a place where you needn’t tell me to come back to bed because I’m right there waiting for you
something more than a dream that ends too soon or the dream where I’m running but everything catches up with me except my feet
so I’ll stay hidden
no beds, no dreams, no nails
just a curtain on a rail and a window that’s too cold
it’s where a curtain girl like me belongs