6:12 AM “Don’t go anywhere”

The hairs on your head gleam silver,
sticking up beneath the nape of your ear
where an inch of skin shows.

My eyelashes beat agains the pillow like a drum
a measure of time
a universal ticking we could not control
even before the clock, became
the clock.

Sometimes we are afraid of losing each other
but then I wake up at 6:12 AM
when the sky is still a dusky blue
and the trees sway all lazy
and the sun is not yet spilling yolky sweaty stains
through our clothing.

Then I turn and listen to the cars affect the vibrations of the bed
and your breaths go in and out all heavy and definite like your opinions.

Then I see your hand lay still against your chest like a promise of the heart
to remain good and honest to yourself.

When you are vulnerable, I trust you,
and in your sleep you tangle your toes with mine,
as if to say,

“I’m not going anywhere.”

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