Lazy Afternoon

With my lips on your spine,

I count down the days left.

Each vertebra is a week,

And we’re reaching a middle.

Your back arches inward;

I’ve hit a ticklish spot.

I rest my head there,

Lazily writing love with my fingers.

I can feel your smile,

Radiating in the warmth.

We are content,

In this lazy afternoon.

We are home,

And not a moment too soon.

I wrap my arms around you,

Gently assuring you deserve goodness.

Kindness is less alien now,

But you’re still acclimating.

Your spine is a timeline,

Each vertebra a moment you were broken.

You’ve pieced peace together,

Often haphazardly over the years.

But now it’s becoming clearer

And in your heart you can believe.

A dream awaits on a distant shore,

And all you have to do is fly.

Was it a trick of the light

When I saw a reflection of my skin

Threads interwoven, pulled thin

Faded orange and green

With starlight dimmed in freckled eyes

And tear stained pillows

Disguised

As something in-between?

A mirror hanging loose

Attracts your fading lips

Takes a breath

And sighs into your hips,

As walls marked with fingerprints

Of yellow, blue and white

Trickle into shadow

And fade from sight.

A whispered windowed pane of glass

Fractures into snow

And falls through its home

Into a dream below,

Settled sleep measured out

And dropped soft like a kiss.