You in your white Pima cotton shirt resuscitate my reason for loving your skin. You in your surrounding halo maybe bask in how I feel when I can see you warm enough to live another decade maybe two. You are unseasonably lovely and continually loved. You are alert to how much beauty can be placed with any common or proper noun. I say your name as if to myself only. I say your name to you also. I look at how you look and I recite some prayer I just made up and elements become my way of seeing. Fears released from muscle tone become bequeathed to someone other than. I live in relaxation. You absorb my relaxation. You recall a photograph you occupied and you re-enter as a silhouette. I think of a small population we become within the frame. My heart frames what my mind sees. My eyes intend. My skin treasures your skin.
World in a state of being seen, perceived into existence, changed a little, photographed, imagined past itself
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