Morning somewhere in a town just like this; Two men sleeping side by side, while the Moon creeps away into its rest. The electric birdcalls begin and one shakes the dust out of his narrow eyes. Arms release, a kiss to the sleeper’s cheek,covers retucked close into the folds, slippers slipped on, tip toes, grab the smokes, he shuts the bedroom door quietly behind. Down stairs, downing the steps by step, each one, away. Puppies petted and cat chins scratched. Coffee, mmmm. Rattle cups from cabinets stone.
Press play for the morning sounds of today’s aria, chosen wisely, the sounds create their rhythm. Fumble with the knob, door cracked, chilly breath-seen on air, brrrrr. Cup to table, groping for that old Zippo. Snapping wind whips, flick, flick, flick, light the tobacco into it. Burning paper, inhale, morning’s first musty taste, a memory flashes from just last night. “so glad you’re home, i missed you being my first morning sight as day starts its dance. how was the reception. i saw your reading tour mentioned online.” Stub, stub, stub, sandy sounding as it goes out.
Padding back inside, he smiles and spies beloved on the staircase, naked and shivering, smiling back. He looks just like he always does in the morning, fussy-faced, brow furroughed, almost afraid. Push back on the door, click the closer. He looks over his shoulder at the coffee still resting on the patio table, growing colder. “a life worth living is no life without my heart’s overseer giving me that look you’re giving me right now, you.”
Beloved replies “i have gotten so used to feeling a part of you, even when you are far away, like you usually are, that seeing you here just for my eyes, still so handsome, almost makes me cry like i used to. in those first days, while i was overcoming my sadness addiction. those two kids rushing heart first and headless into furious love, such a hot white fury.” A bellowy laugh riding with a giggle rises up from them both. They’ve shared this joke for years and years and it is still funny. It is.