Muscle memory has made our movements
so cyclical

we
tangle ourselves up monthly

entering  each others presences
with our
amens

your back an altar
that I worship at,
your arms the extent of the world that I acknowledge exits
for now

but the sunlight will always find its way
between us on your pillows
and will always rise
sure of its self
that is has picked the right moment because,
it is the golden boy of the family

and you
will always rise sure of the fact
that you must leave
because it is your ritual
to never expose enough to be a full picture

and I will allow myself to learn again
that the sun
is the brighter star here.

the challenge is to be surefooted
steps soft and light weaving
through the house as it resists
my every move
to stop and kiss innocent cheeks
make sure the bodies are still warm
prepare the same rituals
of hot coffee and cold juice
while the dogs wait patiently
for fresh air, water
they exist only for my care
and hurried touch
this day like any other
you are here as well
asleep in the back room
i know this as certain as i know
the path i need to take
towards my favorite chair
also waiting for me
to take pen to paper
in the near light
in the almost day
the challenge is to create a life story
strangers want to read