about waking,
about light that
tiptoes in through your
shaded window
and soft cat feet
hiding sharp cat claws,
and insistent cat sounds
that twist and twine
with the light
and the softness
of waking
next to you.
There is something
wondrous in waking
next to skin that smells
of sleep and
sweat, and your
fingers - so deftly
explore the landscape
of my body,
its contours and
vast planes, and trail,
like liquid fire,
to twist and twine
with soft light
and insistent sound
and wondrous delight.
there is something
about feeling your
breath, the weight
of you, the soft light
of you, the wondrous delight
of you, the heat of
your touch, and the
insistent beat of your
heart, a pulsebeat
syncopated rhythm,
insistent,
thrumming,
filled
with an
endless measure
of broken
half notes,
a delicate and
stumbling gait
of love
and infinite grace.
