presence, even as she sleeps.
About the time I get ready to
add my own presence to the bed
too long emptied of it, I realize
this could go wrong. But I am
determined to make it right.
Her right arm lies atop the thick
quilt, exposed. I kiss her fingertips
gently. Move my lips along her
cool skin to the crook of her elbow.
She sighs, opens her eyes.
She could jump up. Scream.
Run from me. Instead she says,
I was dreaming you had come.
I ease onto the bed beside her.
Kiss her. Easy. No demands.
Kiss her mouth. Her forehead.
Her eyes. Down her nose. Back
to her mouth, which she opens,
inviting me inside. “I’m sorry,”
I whisper, before accepting
her invitation. Diving in, as
into a warm spring. And before
we go any further, she says,
I forgive you. This time. But
this is the last time, I swear.
“I know.” The love we make
is remembered. And it is all new.
And there is no one else in the world.
WE DOZE FOR A WHILE