At sunrise the fire is lit<\/p>\n
and the kettle hung from its hook to boil<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The long lazy morning lies ahead<\/p>\n
in which we are as new to each other<\/p>\n
as an infant and her mirror twin<\/p>\n
delighting in every gesture<\/p>\n
and each shared smile<\/p>\n
wanting nothing more than to know this other one<\/p>\n
beyond the silvered surface<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In this light we cannot yet see<\/p>\n
how the fragile clockwork of desire<\/p>\n
will be exposed<\/p>\n
its mechanism bared and torqued<\/p>\n
wound by experts<\/p>\n
set to a schedule<\/p>\n
clinical and clean<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Nor how the morning heaves into heavy afternoon<\/p>\n
warm light along a trail of bread and stones<\/p>\n
on which we tread and cannot say<\/p>\n
which most carefully carried?<\/p>\n
stones or bread?<\/p>\n
and at journey\u2019s end which consumed?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Still, for now, the water boils<\/p>\n
and the fire smoulders still beneath the steaming kettle<\/p>\n
as warm as blood from a slit wrist<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
From where will the breath come?<\/p>\n
In whose lungs made?<\/p>\n
From whose lips blown?<\/p>\n
At sunrise the fire is lit and the kettle hung from its hook to boil The long lazy morning lies ahead in which we are as new to each other as an infant and her mirror twin delighting in every gesture and each shared smile wanting nothing more than to know this other one […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":121,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n