REVISION 3
I awaken warm, tightly wound
and breathing against your back.
An oyster, splintered.

Night tugged speech,
ragged mitten with its teeth,
(The ferocity of my didactic,

“You should, you should”)
flung to snowdrifts
that twist toward Quiet Moon.

............................................

REVISION
I awaken warm and tightly wound
and breathing against your back,
an oyster, splintered.
The ferocity of my didactic

hangs in the air. Night tugged “should”
like a ragged mitten with its teeth.
“You should, you should”

flung to the snowdrifts
that twist toward the quiet moon.

...........................................................................

I awaken warm and tightly wound and breathing

against your back, oyster.

Our argument splintered,

the ferocity of my didactic,

as if Night tugged “should”,  

like a ragged mitten with its teeth,

“you should, you should”

flung to the snowdrifts

that twist toward the Quiet moon.

Hi Rosa.  I'm afraid this is a bit of a riddle.  Is the N. having a domestic when she should be falling in love?  Like a row over snow and moonlight?   It is well constructed and gets the reader thinking.  Maybe you need to give out a little more information.

Thanks for reading, Chris.

Yeah. Just a little poem about me yelling at my husband. lol. I wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes, and re-hash everything I've said. It's usually crazy and stupid stuff. I feel badly afterwards.

Not much of a poem, really. Just a quick thought.  

wow...really nice piece here.loved the intimacy, loved the creativity of "ragged mitten with it's teeth"good work all around.

Thanks for reading & commenting, Octo.  

Feels much tighter with the rev
quite tense.

Thanks, Thief  

Hey Rosa - can I offer another thought on this:

I think there is a strong image available of scattering the snow as an image of getting rid of the bad feelings.  I prefer the revision BTW

I wondered if you were thinking of "making the first move", but then thought better of it an turned over to face the window.
This poem definitely captured the moment I feel.  

Ruth

Ah. Good idea, Chris. I could say something about the scattering snow. A sense would be nice-- taste, touch, sound, feel, or something.

Thanks for the idea!

Ruth, I missed your comment. lol.

Thank you. I almost stuck in a line about tossing and turning, but, then I left it out. I did think of that, though. Funny.

Thanks for reading.