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This poem is about the first Christmas I spent with my fiance, the love of my life. |
When the night seems longer than usual this winter, and I find my wakefulness more inviting than submission and dreaming, I look first to find your head in the dark lying next to me. I don't always see you through the fog of lightlessness, then ever so slowly you emerge amidst the sheets and comforter now bundled around your body you become you and so much more as my eyes adjust to see you in all your life. I don't hear your breathing and I wonder what you would say if you suddenly awoke to my viewing. Would you feel alarmed or calmed by the attention? From the bed and bedroom I will sometimes wander to the living room, where the orchids and Christmas tree, all darkened by hours of distilled quiet now beckon me inward, I'm often invited to sit there on that camel love seat of yours, by you, I can only think, and, as the minutes pass, the dawn breaks the horizon through the southeast windows growing crimson and yellow and azure and lime green even. I thought I knew you in all your life, but of course, I only know you in your current streaming life, entering during that concentrated March of a month while you were content to wait it out. Now orange lights enough to shadow the frames containing the photographs of family and loved ones and Christmas with you in this Sea View vista fills me with the sacred and profain, and now I want to take you from your sleep to a spot under the Christmas tree and make you giddy with pleasure and joy, let you take me too, as I know you will want to do. As the reds and scarlets and orange and yellows pour into the room, drenching the Christmas tree and photos, I hear the opening of the bedroom door, You emerge into this light like an omen, a cosmological messenger forecasting sweetness above firmness below loveliness ahead. |