having woken after enough sleep
and finding it 2 am,
I thought of you until 3, the streetlight
bleaching the bedclothes.
Then, keeping you close as a whisper
I ran a bath in the dark:
deep, aromatic, warm as my bed,
lit a candle,
placed it by the water's edge
- entered and lay
drifting in the soft light,
golden, alone,
shed towering foam infernos
open, cloudless -
down to the glow of London's purple rim:
somewhere holding you in between. |