She said I walked away
From my sleep last night
She said I rose
From her beside
Abandoning the cushion of the bed
And the heat of the quilt
The warmth and comfort
Of her body
Walking straight away
Into the damp, dark street
It was just the twilight before
We discorded
She complained I was not
Discharging my masculine duties
Well enough to make us
Live beyond the plains
But I wonder why
She held me tight
In that cold and dew
In that sepulchral dark
From walking away
From my dreams
***
This poem has appeared in the May, 2013 issue of BareBack Magazine. http://www.barebacklit.com/2013-Poetry-May.html
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About Ijagun Poetry Journal
Ijagun Poetry Journal is a quarterly journal that provides a platform from which we can tell our own stories in the authenticity of their multiplicity through the poetic medium. We don’t want to hear these stories from our master “griots” alone; we want to hear from those mastering their art, too. Hence, we aim at publishing new and emerging poets. We also welcome the works of established poets in order to encourage the poetic genius of those mastering poetic art. We prize original works that conform to, break or reinvent conventions. Again, we accept reviews and critical essays on poetry. We also accept powerful art works and photographs that make us appreciate the "poetry" in everything.
Ijagun Poetry Journal 
This, indeed, is the irony of life; the hypocrisy that plays out in our lives daily.