Poem: Exocet
Exocet.
.
.
Why, when we share a double bed,
Do I wake up in the mornings
Perched upon the vertiginous edge of the mattress
With you lying flush against me
Obdurate in your solid bulk
Your clenched fist and elbow bullying me,
Unable to move even one small inch
In any possible direction except out.
.
.
.
