You would wake up, clocked, alarmed,
lost in the crossover transition,
from dream to live beauty,
and find me writing
laughing, crying, simulcast.

If you slept with, beside me,
you would put your head
on the chest that warms, enlivens,
the few who ever privileged to touch it,
shape-designed to give what needs taking.

If you slept with, beside me,
your vocabulary would contain
new creations daily, poems, words,
like nippilicious, and thatsridikulus.

If you slept with, beside me,
The first thing you would see thru the window,
that chair, angled toward the sun rising,
where I everything,
and sigh-smile simulcast.

If you slept with, beside me,
you would laugh at that man who takes
that newly arrived coffee mug,
and lifts it to warm that naked chest,
heat external thru skin,
waking up his heart, caffeinated for you.

If you slept with, beside me,
you would get to choose,
your fav body part,
a choice tween tongue
and tongue.

If you slept with, beside me,
we would argue mightily,
what be best,
multitudinous colors of the sky,
grass lush green or,
calm bay blue treading waters,
Bach or Billy Joel.

If you slept with, beside me,
you would not have to read this,
for this would part and parcel your life,
no need to say and see things twice.
  
6:43am sept. 14th

Postscript:
If you slept with, beside me,
You would to bed dispatched,
With the taste poem, of me, lullabyed,
And awake to the poem-chronicle
Of the first few moments of this day,
And in between, a duet,
Sleep, and a poem, entitled, me.