Aubade

slipping in and out of consciousness
            our tired limbs fall into each other--
     the world is quiet
as we whisper pale desires
     but you and I are quiet, too
            in our own way
your drafting breath
my blooming lament
            you carry
     a stitch of our waning hours
on the shoulder that rests
            beneath 
your wrath of my curls
so beautifully undone--
     sinking
into a state of oblivion
            your safe hands 
wonderfully choke my waist,
     maybe without even knowing
and I cascade into the night
of your anatomy

                    The blue of the dawn
                    settles on your lunar skin
                    its cool arrival
                    signaling your departure
                         and still I stay so warm for you