Nocturne
As the light goes out, she always slips
her hand round his wrist, rubs the bumps
left by the watch-strap like a soft braille –
and he sleeps at once to the zen of the rain,
dreams of empty grandstands, the slide
of black Cobras at Club, the perfect curves and the blur,
and she too slides while the rain thumps,
slides and sinks, and surfaces again;
and every move throughout the night
is choreographed by habit, so they wake
always exactly the same, coiled into shape and caught
by a big wet sun that comes to lick the pane.
Annette Volfing is an academic teaching medieval German literature. She is originally from Denmark. She has recently had poems accepted by The Interpreter’s House, Smiths Knoll, The Oxford Magazine, Snakeskin and Neon