kneeling by our 2ft6 twin beds,
matching red tartan bedspreads
hemmed with neat scarlet fringes,
we said our prayers inside our heads
and felt the darkness in the bedroom breathing,
gathering density and texture
like a giant ball of wool rolling itself up
into something substantial.
we half fell in love with the jesus on our wall,
wavy auburn locks and kind blue eyes,
always with that smile, a touch reproachful,
whose sacred heart still somehow forgave us all.
meanwhile, swimming up from dreams
into the shouted voices of the night,
the recurrent intermittent clamour of the fight,
our eyes try to hold on to each shadowy form
as if awareness can still it or keep it at bay.