There's nothing
in this moment
but the memory of
you
swinging your legs over the bed.

A dream
of linens
with roses
& checkered
cloth on the
kitchen windows.
and your bent knees
swinging over the mattress
dangling over dancing shadows
on
the floors [are
so **** cold in the morning]

But in that moment
[the one before
your toes touch the floor]
[before the frozen death of morning
slaps you
wide awake]
I will watch your
legs swing over the bed

they swing
and swing
they swing and swing
away from me.