Here,
Lost in
This morning,

I wish
I could find
                Some way
Inside
                Of you -

Watching as
Your ribs
                      Climb upward,
                  And then
       Back down
Again.

Flesh rises
             With the pacing of
                                 Long breathes,
Toward unclear victories.

                      The skin,
              Above
Your brow,
               Is free
Of crevices

                          That might hint
            At dreams,
Unfaithful,

To the vow of rest,
                   Sleep promises us,
             As our
Eyes close,
But that it doesn’t
                   Always keep.
   
I dread
The slow light,

Languidly,
Waiting for you,  
                With the passing of
Each gentle breathe.

Your rich-brown eyes,
                    Slowly opening -
           Taking in
Wrinkled colors,

Unfolding,   
Waiting for you
                 With the passing of
Each gentle breathe.

As the inside
                 Of you
Closes
                 Up, and,
                            Then, unthoughtfully,
                     Leaves me
                 Behind,
As you awake.