just past midnight, in bed with you
together, yet I alone, listen, awake,
shuffling in a Pandora world,
Iz's ukulele invites me over the rainbow,
unaware and unbeknownst to him,
I am there, already
awaiting for his too soon,
untimely arrival.

the weekend war, culture vs. football,
resolved, peace negotiations concluded,
orzo and grilled chicken repast served,
après le bon deluge,
love the treaty signing dinners.

just past midnight,
caress thy hand with solitary thumb,
whispering you are my woman now.
you groggily answer interrogatorily,
"what?"
and I suppress the infectious,
giggling way too loud.

these are the unsummoned moments,
these are the thee-free moments,
this the summary of a man's boon,
their disparate pleasures collectively,
a unity deserving the honorific,
Untitled Moments.

*Why is my vision blurred, my cheeks wet?