I finish her book
As she sleeps in my bed
Mostly naked
Mostly disarmed
Never loud
She is sometimes sudden
And quick
And fierce
Her whole world
Is caught up in dances
Held still now by
Pessimistic dreams
And soft terror

We are miles apart
I, smelling burnt coffee
Hoping she dreams of
Catching flame
Lighting fire
Burning completely up
Finding the sun
Where it sets
Slowly smoldering
On the horizon
While I sit
Rereading her book
Of poetry