Sunday, September 18, 2011

sunday night, i write while she sleeps

light remains at the bottom of the sky
deepening to dark blue towards the dome
that holds us all, this autumn night

soon constellations will appear
myself, at another time, in a wide cold field
becoming acquainted with the darkness

tonight, in blankets
my mind tastes applesauce and cinnamon
i wait for her to wake
while i delight in the quiet of her sleep
the gentleness of her body in the dark
as i imagine it in my mind

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