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
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.”