My head resting on its cotton dreams,
sees the damask pane
or say an eye —
with a half closed lid in front of an halogen.
The brightness adjusted to a much softier tone,
some call ‘presence’ —
And then my walk to the porch —
for a moth to buzz by my coffee, spilling some on mine
I call that ‘life’.
Such shots by blinks
only to be post processed into a lawn
I re-enter, only to see my coverage —
from base to apex and vice-versa
I form an ‘L’.
That’s my side of the bed, some call ‘shore’
I spot the sea at a distance
bringing in a flock of waves —
along with a high tide.
I redo my bedsheets
I remove the blanket.
I kiss you.