It's hard not to focus on her tits,
on the rise and fall, on the fabric
that bunches up around her,
climbing slowly up her torso
as she tosses and turns.
If I were to look at her,
I would see the creases beside her eyes,
the downward pull of her mouth,
dragging me down with the softness,
into the space where she just barely parts her lips,
and gasps.
She has always gasped in her sleep,
once little rabbit breaths,
full of surprised delight,
but now she takes in breath
like she's ready to scream,
with the sheets gripped tight
in knuckles pale from pressure.
And sometimes,
she cries.
It's hard not to focus on her tits,
because I might see the pain
that she tries so hard to hide.
My lover is lost in dreams,
and I cannot be beside her.
When we are relaxed.
Unintentional
We breathe the same rate.
When we are together and afar.
Spiritual
We breathe the same rate.
Not trying,
Not attempting,
We breathe together,
Even when we're kissing.
The beauty is this,
When my life is hell,
So is his.
We are mirrors,
Looking back at each other,
At the same breath rate.
God,
Our breaths,
Together,
Please take.