The loving anchor of an embrace at dawn: 

We lie together now:
Each in each other’s arms,
and from a small slit-
Like a knife’s slash
Dawn rising.

I have seen this all before.
The stirring birds,
the paling sky.
This scene I have watched unfold
a thousand times. Is different.

I look at your skin,
that I trace with my finger tips-
like some dancing leaf over water.
The ripples of my fingers
on the marble stone pond
of what is only your shoulder
are endless.

They let free the dye
of blue hues from dark grey,
that spill onto your canvas
like watercolours.

Your skin becomes a mirror.
An autumn puddle, lightly frosted,
winter still. Reflecting the thawing sun.

How will you greet the day?
Perhaps I will have to wake,
and you will readjust your arms
tighter round my chest.
So I do not leave so early.


Maybe you will
like cherry blossom on soft water
Part our embrace.

Maybe you will ignore the day?
Forget the morning that waits for you
(only you)
and simply groan it away,
yawn, hold me closer and sleep again.

In truth? In truth I do not know.
Nor do I need to know.
When once I would have planned:
my waking and reading and living,
I find myself weighted to the present.

You are my gentle breeze and sails
and I am the mast on which you hold.
And this dawning day is so new for me
because I am with you.

Maybe I shall forget the morning with you.
So we may lie together now
each in each other’s arms
and drift into the dawning day.


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