She grabbed my hand and the moon rising behind her
as we turned our faces to the sky,
drawing the energy of the lit skyscrapers,
empty shells humming with fluorescence.
Come morning the sun rose red-hued
and creeping over the windowsill
illuminated slats across the room
as she lay asleep up down, her chest,
her lungs, her nose, up down,
softly. And I watched, and I thought,
and her eyes opened squinting at the sun.
We came to the park later hands held and
she said to me kiss me, saying kiss me,
kiss me, her voice bright and earnest from my shoulder.
I stop my feet and turn my head down and smile