The Vigil

dawn passing into morn
saw our heads so close together
on the soft muslin pillow

my eyes wide open took in
the smooth white skin serenely
covering your unfettered sleep

there’s so much wonder in
the mere rise and fall of your chest
as air played in and out your lungs

with your head close to mine
only a lucid whisper separating us
i drank willfully the sight of you in repose,

breathed in deeply
your long rhythmic sighs,
felt the course springy hair on your

head, marveled how its scent—
soap, sleep, and something else,
something only you possess, can make

me feel all sorts of things at once:
electrified bees in my stomach,
vines of desire creeping through my veins,

Hope finding its way in
the abandoned dungeons of the heart;
knowing Light for the second time

each time your lazy limbs
brushed a patch of my anticipating
body—I feel so deliciously alive,

a bonfire blazing boldly
at the first kiss of fire, licking the skies,
throwing no caution, but rage, to the winds

how could I bask in all this?
how could I so recklessly hope
it is Love sleeping so closely

before me, warming me
all over, stirring all the
wonder I could muster

how could I risk second death on
my newfound shot at somethingness?
the heart can only want so much when

Love can only give one fine bedfellow
lost in the folds of Oblivion while
I drown in my silent wishes

each one fading like smoke
from stoic vigil candles,
blown by uncaring zephyrs