diary of a morning person

10.15am

light on my skin
i am nudity clothed and true
to eyes that can drift on me now
soft, slow, time -- you have lovely feather eyes.

10.15am

four point five above ground
numbers you tease and twist me well
my fear lasts only a bar of cold railing
vertigo you reside in me -- quiet when i am not falling.

10.15am

this place is noisy with a million thoughts
in even numbers, i cannot tell what she is thinking
i am a passenger in your life
even if your mind is not on me -- it is rather involuntary.

10.15am

in the picture we lean against white wall
my arm is slung over your shoulder
i have a book of stills, and flipping fast
we look as though we're pushing and pulling apart
-- that is more like it.