Aubade

Dawn and they slumber on

limbs entangled, breath rhythmic; untroubled

bathed in dust-specked sun.

The shrill song of day

as it finds each chink in the ditsy-print curtains

falling first upon her face and then

in an enticing constellation

it orbits their quiet congruence

in a slowly unfolding son et lumière.

Awaking; her fingers curled around his ribs

lifting; falling with his breath

she lays; listening

to a rhythm circadian

to the sonorous beat, beat, beat of him

remembers how they sought one another

their skin blue-white; electric in the blonde of the moon

exuding a slow and glorious heat

that rose, surged; spilled in their divine duet.

Still; she lays

languid in the sweat creased sheets

steeped in an aurous glow

blind to the light

holding her breath

for fear the day will break.