Bedroom Democracy

I prefer the soft white sheets.
I’ve gotten to that point in my life.
She likes it better in-between
that one there
and the blue, scratchy comforter.

Her still form and wide eyes
petition me
as I file a similar brief.
I’ve got my terms,
she holds her own
and there’s no place
for us to share them.

I’m anything but a dictator,
sullen and rheumy eyed.
I wouldn’t drag her away
in the middle of the night
like the SS
to reeducate her on
the meaning of comfort.
Those old propaganda posters are just
lining my birdcage these days.

No, we share ideas, an open forum
for everything we want and need
but the rub is in the table talk
when we’re tangled in our foreign tongues.

Can there be no democracy –
with your rights
and my rights –
without a border
stretched between?

Bedroom Democracy

Nicholas Bond

Brooklyn, United States

Artist's Description

Let’s start negotiating today.

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