(for jt)
I wake before dawn
and you are there
with me.
I say
Wait.
You say
Yes.
The drowsy air is soft.
Quiet.
Our breath covers our bodies,
and each leg
rests along the length of the other's.
The air blooms with white pinwheels
each one connected to another
and they turn,
twirl in all directions,
they look sharp
like sails
but they're not.
Do you see them?
Yes.
Do you feel the air
rush across our bodies
caressing our skin
our arms our toes?
Yes.
You cover me
like powder
like water
like a whisper of silk.
Your glory
wants
my glory
wants
—but the pinwheels—
we're floating in the petals
of the pinwheels.