Don´t Let Me Sleep

I already had visions
laced with these encounters;
bitumen coffee, sweet-cake pink.

Your body spread before me,
Oh god! Your long fingers.

Let me offer you my still wet hand
A slip of love, another creature dying.

Tell me I touch good.

But then winter comes, long leaves
fall like songs.

Before the sky cataracts completely
tell me you see me.

Break me loose from my kneeling
here, on the pathetic floor.

Don’t let me sleep, not again.

Make my bewildered body
deep roast dark as pitch.



Susannah Violette lives in the forests of Germany with her husband and two daughters.  A Pushcart Prize nominee Susannah has had poems placed or commended in the Plough Prize, Westival International Poetry Prize, the Frogmore poetry prize, Coast to Coast to Coast Pamphlet Competition and appeared in various publications worldwide most recently Bloody Amazing,  Pale Fire, For the Silent, Dreich, Alchemy Spoon,  Finished Creatures, Channel and Strix.