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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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To wake up next to you,
o! to wake up in a warm daze, to become aware of sheets, tenderly entwining limbs, mouth sucked dry with dreams... O! to lean against too-many white pillows, a mug of perfumed tea in hand, 'Für Elise' winding threads around an eggshell light gentle from a crack between blowsy curtains... O! to watch thirteen nubile leaves on the cherry blossom tree nodding thoughtfully to 'Laudate Dominum', miming ancient conductors twitching their ancient hands... O! to feel the damp of last night's eternal struggles, last night's endless battles with passion, raw, acid, unashamed... O! to wake up to the gentle touch of the morning... O! to sip the tea, hot and redeeming, bringing mouths, bringing words and silences back to life... and skin! O! skin, how you have slept in a cocoon of expectation... how you have slept in the sweet confidence of morning's arrival- morning's sure and knowing embrace... O, to be sure... to ever be so sure again of morning's sweet and musky drowsiness, of morning's lazy passion...
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