Awake at Dawn

I awake, my arm draped

across you in a tenderly twined spoon,

My hand trapped between smooth thighs,

thumb pinched by your knees, 

elbow to fingertip needles sting me.

I begin to pull free,

let blood restore feeling

when through my chest my arms through me, I feel you breathe. 

It comes out of you and into me and it comes in long deep rushes

and it leaves in unnumbered bottomless sighs. 

Your hair and scent tickle my nose in a raven tangle of musk and makeup

and sleepy sweet perspiration.

A month long smoking crave distracts me for a moment before

dawn’s purple fingers begin curling

light around the night.

Darkness outside your window flees into me,

closing my eyes I surrender to morning and what

I know is the death I’ve lived for.