After watching her sleep,
I’m going to treasure her secret life
Like some breakable thing,
Saying nothing of the careless peace
In her face half sunk in her pillow,
Turned aside as her breathing
Moved to the rhythm of the darkness.
Does she know in her dreams
If she’s sleeping the way I know?
Does she know I am always
Either inside her or nowhere?
Does she ever rise out of herself
To drift above our bodies
And watch like a hidden angel
As my finger follows
The tiny silk road of a single strand of hair?
I’m going to find her
And touch her shoulder as I press
The simplest of kisses to her throat
And speak the silent words
Of a fractured spirit to the breath
Flowing down the river of her body.
In the room of precious secrets
Where angels and devils may not come,
I’m going to slap her body with my body
Like the baby animal she is
Until she slaps my body back
And opens the nectar glazed petals
Of the opium flower
I live to claim and plunder as my own
For the first time again,
Where she reduces me
To a flesh current of desperate quivering,
Swept up in the power
Of her soft, wet squeeze
Until the whole part of my life
I have yet to live
Slides up against hers
And the power of living
Inside another living, shining thing
In the wet revelation
Of everything as simple
As skin, breath and love.
And I vow to pay tribute to the day
With all the gold and silver left of my heart
For giving up these dark hours one more time
When I watch her sleep
And love her like some breakable thing.