i woke up and tried to
forget but was reminded,
instead, of the way your
lips gather like dawn
and dusk on either side
of the relentless night of
your insides, all points laid
out, shining light in form
constants: you, unknowingly
lit up, like cigarette tips under
city lights. so, is this how
you do it? how you smuggle
small likenesses, the
reflections upon slight layers
of water across the surface of
your eyes, into my waking
thoughts in ever-decreasing
intervals? finally, ending in
slow sequential convergences
with me seeing                    
                              you in
         oceans of sleep,
seeing your eyes, the soft
skin of your palms, bent
visions emerging in my
ventricles, aortae, arteries
of
how this ends.