the first time i fell in love
(with you) i was waking,
peeling my skin from yours.
your eyes were half-open,
deep blue, but you were asleep
sun light coming
in on petal-soft feet through
the venetian blinds.
you were no orpheus,
to make the trees bend down
and whisper my name,
to climb the long stair,
to hang my name in the stars with your lyre.
i followed you all the same.
you looked back (once).
there were no clouds that day.
