Slow Saturday morning sun-limbs
stretch in gold
sprawling smoothly
over ridges of tousled sheets
and dense mounds of me.
Soft skimming sun-fingers
slide sweetly
through lumps of greasy hair
and spaces between lazy eyelashes.
Amber dew-sap sun drips
from on the wall above the dresser
into neglected water glasses
spilling over a half dozen equally neglected books
each with tiny corners of pages bent in upon themselves
like little promises saying,
"Lovely words, I will return to admire you,
underline you, rewrite you in a letter to a friend.
Lovely words I will not forget you."
