i stretch out on the queen-sized bed to unwind
the inner photo frame brushes the edge to touch you
as the itching eyes slide behind heavy lids
and the lights dim out travel kaleidoscopic hallways

the sleep of you blends into mine fractal flowering us
back into that brown orange and yellow forest of crinkly leaves
chasing you barefoot lovemaking near the ravine
children of those September autumn oak trees

but you, a teardrop plays on the corner of the eye
you try to hide with the smile
i thirst to kiss you, exchange, breathe with you
did i awake?
a fly on my cheek?
no, a running saline drop travels down the
temple side to the sheet
a puddle wet ring by my head

sensing the bird call is near you try to hold on
to my hand but the grip slips slowly apart to the tips
of the fingers, off--

as you lay back, crossing hands over the breast
back into the earthworm bed in the loam



7.6 4.4
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson