Bed

Written by: Chris Grundy

Bed

Plump down on the bed,
My head, heavier than before,
Follows my body,
Contently onto the bed.

My arms spread like a crucifix,
A groan escapes my lungs,
the blood-red sheets,
crushed on my bed.

A final smile and I sit up,
Norah Jones sings of new York City,
She does it so beautifully,
on my bed.