when the morning light tickles my face
I crouch and seek sleep in your warmth
and the sharp and crude calls of birds
sound like the sweetest poetry.
judy blue death vessel, nothing is precious enough
to add to this moment, we would need to
sell the first-born we may never have,
this moment before landing wakefulness
passes blind on a curve, diving for your lips
the first immersion or real time only
where i seek something better than life itself.
we’ll lie still in softness and close
while the dawn outside fills with all the light
I care to ignore for your face