When we made the bed with the new linens
(Yes, they are beautiful)
the red of them hinted to us
to be devils in a searing depth
But the moon fought for your skin
as I slid the sheet down your hip
As my hand spread the praise of that pale light
down your ribs, to the cove
where your hip bones curve forward
Where my mouth opened, in that shadow
and whispered of what's to come;
Springing a river, for your lotus.
The moon has side-stepped,
reached the corner of the window
The pink-orange curtain accepts the finale
of the soft spotlight
Then we are engulfed in darkness
and our after-the-ruckus conversation
is what keeps us close.
Before you, my river had no flowers
No blue reflections, even
when I faced down and gurgled the water.
Such is life, then
flirting with drowning
When breath is only sustainment
without my mouth on your mouth
How a desert lotus had no rain
-Craved to be under my dark cloud
that I took for granted
(I made the air moody over me
just to provide myself shade).
How you blossomed, suddenly
How the river around us
gave back new memories for the sky
with colors I've forgotten
Until handed back, by the armful
that you've brought me.
How we placed bets;
I see your love
and raise you mine.