It's not quite black
In the bedroom.
There's a glow from the streetlight
that sneaks in through the curtainless windows.
Stronger on overcast nights like tonight
When the streets are oil slicked with rain
And owners keep their dogs inside.
Beside -
An inaccurate preposition to describe
the tangle of arms and legs and flesh
Your head on my chest, or mine on yours,
the pampas movement of a strand of hair
lifted by a steady breath.
In the not quite darkness
a sour cherry smell
curls over from the bedside table
My last thought before sleep is of
An empty yoghurt pot, a scooped out shell
The spoon dipped in, a half moon of Fruits of the forest
clinging to it's leading edge
like a fingernail.
Foto: Sandy Kim
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario