The Head Boards

March 14 2012  

The Head Boards, the men boards

Where did this man come from, heavy with sleep as he sprawls across the head board?   He is young, hunky, my female friends will say.  His sex lies softly, asleep too, and his hand falls down the bed post, reaching out in his sleep towards the ground. 

But he didn’t come alone.  At the same time as I drew him, another young man came, asleep also, on the board below him.  Are they together?  Do they know each other?

Do they imagine that they lie on bunks, and will sleep away their time for all time, as they flaunt their male bodies so beautifully and carelessly?       I‘m not sure that they are aware of their situation, arriving so freely into the narrative of my bed.  They are un aware, vulnerable possibly to what might happen to the bed, and will be carried along in its journey whether they like it or not.  Should they fear this?

Will they ever wake?   I will carve them as they are, asleep.  But they might dream, or maybe they will feign sleep, and listen to what is going on around them, amused perhaps, puzzled perhaps.  They will never leave.