for-given

it’s 8:45 in the morning
i lie there, still,
in bed as our
cat claws the sides
of the mattress
to bare insides.
my love walks
nude in oils
and a black
loosely hung robe
between doors
and mirrors.
her understanding
affords daybreak’s
double-apology.
and then we roll in
the painted sheets–
moment’s ecstasy.
and then
the day went.
again alone i lie.

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