Sunday, February 14, 2016


There is something
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,
with an
endless measure 
of broken 
half notes,
a delicate and 
stumbling gait
of love 
and infinite grace.