I saw a slip of silver in a puddle.
Something pulls me, an anchor. I break
into a run. All the way. Home. My arms, salty
tired, hang around you like a waterfall.
For good-and-all I'm damned. No one's left
to make the wish. This time love's a jellyfish.
A door closes. No one's there to cut
the takes of bedroom rehearsals. Your body,
across the room, is real, but still a shadow away.
Because I've always slept bereft of You.
Because I want to keep the habit of waiting
through the night, waiting for morning dew
to snap awake the wilted bloom.