Thy enemies

I watch you rest, my love.

You seem at peace, content to doze,
your lips apart, your eyes half-closed.
And by your lowered arms and guard
you let me read, the world, so hard,
feels soft and safe to you.

So that is all you want?

What do you want when nothing bites,
when you have fought or fled your fights
and lie, forgotten by the storm,
unseen, unknown, unbothered
but still warm?

What do you want, my love?

I‘m with you but you barely know,
don‘t see me. Something deep and slow
has raised its head beneath your breast
and you, still mine, still calm, well-dressed,
feel strange and blind to me.

My love, where are you going?

She drifts away asleep, possessed.
That deep slow thing within knows best.
And trusting it, she steps outside
to face the foes who made her hide
and be, for once, their bride.

They come with disbelieving eyes.
She trembles, smiles. She lets them near.
Their hands, all gentle with surprise
help secret love defeat her fear.

I watch her let them prise away,
unbelt, unbutton and untie,
and, all defences scattered, lie
back in their arms to let them play.