While I am up and you are crash asleep,
and rain on windows clocks the lurching nights,
the acts I sow in day in bed I reap,
too many moments seeded with a fight.
Your breathing random, your legs are restless,
in a dream where you are running past
ghastly wraths of pasts that hold you breathless
who stunt your future’s blossom in your chest.
Like a sullen owl I lay wide-eyed awake,
soaked in night-rain’s spell and feathered waiting
for passion’s breath to wing its fiery drake
and melt your nightmare’s black choke-gripped plaiting.
From ashes of your burned past’s chest will spawn
our easy dew and flower petal dawn.
