The Word “yes”



There are birds in the morning, warmth
passing through our bodies; you
are the first curve I feel and wrap

tightly around. A still silence
in your eyes assures words
cannot touch us here, that even

thought is a trick of light,
but when we lean skull to skull
and together, voicelessly, hum,

I sense formal penetration
dismissed flesh long ago. When
you rise to stretch your torso

and bathe, I watch composting
leaves on the rooftop outside your
bedroom window grow flowers.

Poetry, 2011


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