Monday, May 22, 2006


You turn
as you always do,
halfway down the hall,
to smile at me one last time.

I close the door behind you,
crawl into bed,
fully dressed,
and press my face into the pillow
to inhale.

You are still there
on the pillowcase.

The merlot curtains
transfigure sunlight.
Purple red.

dance the wall.

Is this loveliness for me?
I can barely contain it.

Beat, beat
animal pleasure of
breathing in
breathing out.

You have woven
yourself into
my day –
left it magical with
color and scent:

Red curtains, playing with wind.

Brilliant green grapes
in a glass bowl.

Clean smell of soap and sweat.

Perfume of coffee brewing.

Your brown eyes.

Your presence
brings me home.