Someone gave me a prompt today, to write a poem about pyjamas. So I’ve quickly composed the one below. I’m not sure what door this prompt has opened in my mind but it’s an interesting one. Take a look at it. I love pyjamas by the way. And soft, sensual beds. It’s difficult to get into that ready-for-bed mind though. When there’s so much to do and so many rules to keep to.

Your Pyjamas

I like your pyjamas
your fleecy cotton

gathered by chance
and brushed aside
for skin to come between us

and be touched by my soft scrutiny
to make you blush.

do you know what it’s like
to be chained
to what’s not said
between us?

to be

the moon's been rinsed
and the night requires 

but I must 
empty the lamp
of light
in case I say something
I shouldn't.

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