What I Want For Us All
To wake tomorrow beside another, drowsed in sheets of light,
their hundred-count heat scented with the dew of skin and shine.
The lick of petal tongues a path to follow in darker days
when the clouds sink low their bellies to wash away your true face.
Or to wake alone, taking up the whole bed, wings as wide as any queen’s,
this nest of twigs and dreams, yawning open. Blue eggs speckle the palms,
dye the whites of your eyes to caerulean skies. Who needs omelets
when you have these feathers to fly on, their black sheen showing back
reflection upon reflection upon reflect.
Or maybe not to wake at all, some days. Let the dark
of your eyelids carry you, careful as a coffin, as a womb,
as a shroud, a shard of maybe. Stay wrapped in
before you come alive, before you rise and yawn and stretch.
That black dirt of promise, of seeds and buds. Let me shower you
with the soft pack of my palms, the sweet place of earth.
Tomorrow is soon enough to push through into the waiting
keyhole of my hands, the temple of my fingers,
the fallen, kneeling doorway of this love.
NOTES: Last day! Woot. If you haven’t read any of the other poems, today’s the day. They’re amazing!