As/Is







3.15.2007


fourteenth of March

your touch, equivalent to breath
keeps me awake as if
to savor what is here
I think of sleeping as the dream this is

you are my melody with quiet
never interfering and the pulse
of traffic does not shift
the cushion of these soft sheets

where my soul designs
my soul again
against oncoming sunlight
just as quiet

as the dark design
of who you are to me
my younger older self
at rest and visible