Mornings, Explained (for Chris)

"Some / sleep is not worth sleeping, some nights / mere neglect of light, lingering" - Bin Ramke (After Artemidorus on Dreams: Oneicriticos)

Those nights with you,
my day too early.
How easy would
it have been to
say no? Go home
and lay in the
pattern of headlights
on my ceiling?
as if those nights had
a purpose,
some meaning other
than lying                                                (Such a common talent
here covered in satin                                    why do we bother
and red light                                                to practice it?)
like some
nocturnal exhibit
at the zoo.

It would have been
easy except
I love the way
you make me
feel beautiful
I could bask                                                      for days
in the way you
don't try to know
anything about
me - are content
in this rhythm
of youagainstme.
Our habits
comfortable
and predictable
as if this were
enough, this
skin-on-skin.
The sound of my
breath on your neck,
your hand on my
side. I rarely
slept those nights
anyway, never

mind the shuddering
of our bodies
the way you
would grab
the back of
my head and
I would start
to cry, my hands
gripping your
shoulders, my
mouth on your skin
to muffle myself
begging you to stop.
I would not have
you hear, you
see. Why risk
letting you think
you've possessed me,
won.
After all, this is war dear.

Mornings my victory.
Those hurried
moments
as I
left before the sun
became like the night,
lingering.