day collar

These days, I keep on feeling,
over and again,
your middle finger and thumb almost meeting
around my lithe little neck,
that palm upon me, that collar, like lightest armor! -
my windows, I mean eyes, singing you an honest song.

ting, says the leash,
sound that nibbles my ear on its way in...
and the chains, clink, of course I am here
at your heel, your skin - what on earth was I doing
before I met metal's wink?

In my own day, now,
my own breathing,
the day collar holds me
and in its perfect position,
learns my heartbeats
just like you.

My own windchime of a laugh
fell out on those sheets,
fine enough to surprise me;
now, in my own bed, it replays
and I hope you are listening, too,
to the notes you set free.