Bed of Nails

She undresses like a bather wading through the waning light Till her darkest fears are splashing in the deep end of the night. On some ship of dreams those sheets might be her sails, Not a canvas full of nightmares draped across a bed of nails. There now, baby, don’t you fret. We’ll just have some fun. Let me hear my kitten purr. You’re the special one Tries to focus on the ceiling with its old familiar crack; Feels the piercing shame transfix her as she lay there on her back. When she bears that weight, her sense of balance fails Like that drunkard on his tightrope high above her bed of nails. Hush now, baby, don’t you cry. Soon we’ll be all done. Gotta, gotta, hurry, hurry… ring the bell and run. Maybe someday she’ll grow braver and she’ll stand to offer proof Of the monster in her closet and the gremlin on the roof, But until that day, a stronger will prevails And she’s just his little plaything lying on her bed of nails.