Things I tell myself, waking up with her:

She'll be beautiful

When the night catches the day

When all the dreams she's left on my pillow

Begin to dance across my bedroom floor

To the music of our breaths

And the morning storms

And the wanting

No

The need to return

To those dreams

To those breaths

To dancing

Yes dancing

Again and again

When I

Her

The sun

Can take no more

Only the moon and my will

Wanes

Still

She'll be beautiful

With each ache

Each long drawn fit

Every arched trembling surprise

Her hair a perfect storm

And the dancing

Yes dancing

Even in her eyes

Oh how those dreams

Demand the notice

Of each waking moment

And each moment exists

Without the burden of time

She'll be beautiful

When I pull myself from this slumber

She always is