The t.v. is still on,
there’s a blue wall
that replaces the glass with
a soft textured glow
and I’m lying on my
left side because
the right is still sore
around the ribs
and I’m looking at the
eleven-year-old alarm clock
blinking the same time
over and
over
again I flip the pillow
I look over your shoulder to
try and see your face
with my dark adjusted
eyes, but all I can make
out are the highlights from the window
on your forehead
your cheek
the tip of your nose
the edge of your chin
your bare shoulder
the highest edge
of your extended arm
the top of your breast
and I don’t need to see the
rest cuz I know it’s there
and I know what’s second
best so I move the hair
away from your eye
So it won’t annoy you
if you awake to it there,
I lay back
down on my left
side with my left
arm underneath your neck
and my right over
your stomach with my
fingers crossed
and I wonder if I’m
dreaming as I slip
from one world
to the next.