We are usually
in tune with each other
like the moon to the
tide of the ocean,
like the changing
of the seasons,
like sky and water,
two halves of an orange,
two perfect wedges
of an mis-shapen apple.
But tonight, as I snuggled
beside you with lovemaking
on my mind, in my desires,
I heard you yawn.
You reached for the lamp,
too tired to read
like you usually do.
I kissed the back
of your creamy white shoulder
and listened to your breath
fall into an easy pattern,
deep sighs as you
settled into the covers.
As I write this poem,
downstairs, my fingers
typing these words,
glass of wine in my other hand,
I listen to your snores
vibrate against the floorboards,
their reverberation keeping
me in this chair until
my eyes become heavy too.
There will be plenty of time
for making love...I can't
bring myself to disturb
your sweet slumber.
So, I will just sit
on my hands until
our rhythms once again
agree on a meeting place.
Sweet dreams,
apple orange sky moon.
