leave the light on. We tried this once
in a dream, bare calves mud-flung

          from quick sprint out of sudden
downpour, linoleum slick with our

          drip & sheen, tugging wet denim
down to our knees, then our knees

          to the floor. On what ripe fruit
we fed, peeled & sunk at the tongue,

          each husk hollowed clean. Daylight
on a night-bloom is rare indeed

          & I needn’t dream to try to outrun
my own weather. Of all the good

          rooms I’ve left, my body is the one
you prefer. You’ve never asked to see

          in order to believe our symmetry
lacks only echo: one for one until

          I’m undone by what I can’t confirm
except by feel. And who would argue

          with these hands—should they spend
their inborn bent endowing every favor

          you could dream—so long as you keep
your chin upturned in ecstasy & those two

          good eyes sealed? I wanted you
to know me only in relief—& so be

          relieved of all the risks of reciprocity.
But now I find our currents intertwined

          & even my gale no strips down its
only consonant: we agree. I want you

          to take your time. You can take mine, too
if you let me be the one to close my eyes.