King’s Tide
Moonlight and street light blocked by blackout curtains
Golden silk tickles my nose
And I am forced to untangle
To rub at this itch on my nose
The warmth of my limbs protesting
This new chill as the fan stays on
(my choice)
Rhythmic snoring of unbothered dogs at the foot like waves
A slight murmur as you roll counter clockwise back an hour
A new moon to face me eyes closed
Arms seek out to ensnare the thermal vent that temporarily pulled back
But I am the ocean’s tide as I press into your embrace this night
Golden silk, sandy hair pressed against my closed azure eyes
I breath in home
And my nose itches again
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Wonderful rhythm in this piece.