Good Morning
jitters
lexicon
reflection
good morning!
and it IS a good morning!
the sun, as always in its
inexplicable radiance
and deplorable warmth,
is rising slowly,
illuminating first our fence,
my nightstand,
your hand
where it rests,
warm,
in the middle of my back;
and you, as always in your
brand-new-day smile
and messy hair,
are opening your eyes
slowly,
like a twin emerald reflection
of the me i love
the most,
reminding me first of the trees
back home when spring has
first sprung,
granny smith apple peels
piled in my sink as
i make pie,
your hand,
warm,
where it rests
in the middle of my back.
this perfumed
lexicon
i throw at you
softly,
petals dropped
from new-skin hands
onto wedding-day aisle floors,
stretches planet-wide
and still cannot even
begin
to divulge the extent
of my devotion for you
or explain the torn
and bloodied
remnants
of my heart
in a way that expresses
my true intention:
to give that heart
to you.
and you lay here,
head beside mine on your pillow,
body entwined with mine beneath this quilt,
hand warm on the middle of my back,
smiling at me
while you take my hand
as if it still turns your heart
to realize
i'm shaking
like i've got the Virginity Jitters
when you weave your fingers
between mine and pull them close
to kiss them;
you smile at me with that
brand-new-day smile
as if you are ready to take on the world
because today
has forgotten yesterday
and the defeat it holds;
you open your eyes --
jade pools mirroring memories
of the pond at my grandmothers farm,
the foliage my mother wove around
her backyard the day
she swore eternity
to a man who loves her more
than breathing,
my kindergarten class on
st. patrick's day --
slow at first but fluttering now,
to murmur a "good morning"
and flash your dimples
as you bury the side
of your head further into
y(our) pillow;
and your hair resembles art --
too long, too dark, too tangled,
splayed across this baby blue pillow sheet
like ink scribbled into the sky
that is waking up
alongside us.
|