The sun rises without regard,
coloring the sky in ocher and amber.
Your poetry and dizzy spells
lift up like the morning mist.
I wake in the middle of this splendor,
befuddled and naked and reaching for water…
Where did the night go?
Where did the music disappear?
Where are the fireflies I caught in a jar?
Dehydration makes neurons fire harsher,
I suppose, I really don’t know. I have no idea.
The mechanics of my brain are as strange to me
as the weather on Mars. All I know, is when you put
your lips to mine something electric happens,
and that today my head oscillates rapidly between
right here and far away, where the electricity happens.
This passing shadow passes over me.
The bluebird lands on the power line.
A freight truck hauls these thought away.
Those good old days aren’t good, just old.
This is when I am meant to be alive.
Do you remember the things that made you scared
at five years-old? Do you know where they are now?
I pour water on the garden so the shade will reach you.
I hang prayer flags in the tree for the Gods to see.
I walk on the carefully tended path so I won’t fall down.
I sing the blessings that your love has created.
The bathroom is steamy with the shower’s essence.
I can’t see my reflection in the mirror, but I know I’m there.
I get in the shower. I wash all my parts. I wake up.
Today is a day to treasure. It’s just like yesterday, but better,
because I’m one day closer to being in your arms again.