dance in your sleep swept eyes?
Do soft lilacs and white honey two-step
as one across deep gold?
Your skin luminous
with the kind of hope
only dawn could bring.
The sound of night crashing
into day across stirring sheets.
Would peace in its essence, its natural state,
wash over our bodies?
Coating our souls in a fresh lacquer,
shining and unscathed.
Is your face a crinkled pillow,
which mine must rest upon?
The only place of armistice,
where my lips dream.
Would your arms be wound
taut with cream sheets?
Or would they be wrapped strong,
fitted around my frame?
As if I could blow away
with the awakening sea-breeze.
Your breathing; waves
rolling up and down the shoreline
that is my body.
Is that what it’s like,
waking up with you?