When morning spins into your room,
spilling like a waterfall through your
blinds, we are asleep, curled around
each other like tumbling, reaching
vines, pressed tightly against one
another's skin. I wish I could see us
in these moments, quiet, affectionate,
lost in a dream world where life is not
so harsh and we are not so complicated.
In these moments, you reach for me and
do not stop yourself, you pull me close
and breathe me in, and you do not feel
the guilt or punish me for your confusion.
I can burrow my face into the warm cradle
of your chest, take sanctuary in your heart
beat, free of the fear that I will push too
hard, that you will spook and I will have lost
you again. We are simple at these times,
bathed in the gentle light of dawn, faces
uncreased and innocent. Our slumbering
contentment builds bridges, spanning the
terrifying distance that seems to grow between
us every day, spawned by uncertainty and fear
and the hateful words that fall from our lips
like dying leaves from sharp branches in the
chilly bitterness of late fall. But you do not
hate me and I cannot hate you and when
morning sneaks in on us, it is clear that
somewhere, beneath all the insecurities,
broken promises, bitter memories and
emotional baggage, we really do love each other