How a King Bed Saved my Marriage

A nightmare to sleep next to, my grandma said
Most kids are, but eventually grow out of it?
My psyche is the shipwrecked shores of Aruba
So much debris still, anchored and rusting
Forever waiting to enchant and terrify
Each night, I am swashbuckling ghosts along these haunted decks
Mayhem, plunder, seeking
Treasure and revenge among every shadow
Brutal adventure
Back in reality, the only one beseiged
Is my sleepless husband
Knee, elbow, toenail, hipbone
So many cruel edges thrown about
Shivering of limbs
Discord coming not from creaking timbers
But from my very own beak
Parrot screeching squawking
As if I don't talk enough in daylight
My nightstand a collection of torture devices
One pulls my tongue out
Another blocks all nasal transmission
There's even a facial strap to hold it all together
My dream time version of an eye patch
It's a wonder I sleep as well as I do
© Amber Keating, 04.06.18