Ode to the Empty Side of my Bed

I lavish you
with down comforters,
electric blankets,
and a body length pillow
I call Frank.

Dressed in Green,
I sink in you
like camoflage.
I cover my vagina
with foliage
in hopes
that someone will
fall in.

By day,
I feverishly gather
new pillows and sheets
hoping someone may want to
nest there.

When darkness comes
so do I
with the aid of my vibrators.
But I am left only with
a wet spot
on that side of the bed
that never holds me afterwards.

Dana McNabb

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