while you were sleeping

for a moment i was in the arms of another
never guessing it was yours, several places pierced.
as if you could hear better and i could learn to sing.
i slid my fingers over. believing in the spiral embrace of
venus de milo. knocking on your wooden leg to
tint my acumen off your silver ring. to shoo the dark.
i didn't realise the spring was asleep, for a long time.
simply breathing. trilling the surface of the bed boring into
my singular conscience. marked felicitous and brittle.
you were delivering me. even though it was not your colour.
you should be the acute twang of bitters. if at all in trite light.
that dash in gin, redressing pink. that is what you should be.
i kept on looking at you. earth had stopped, but you would not stop
shedding. i swathed in vain. i ran my hand. that
tingling hand. eventually playing with your cheek, that broke.
i thought i was late. we were late. already the white-washed walls
were trellised sun. creeping in through the blind blades.
i did not like to be afraid. but i was.
i may have said between seconds, to beware of the taming
of the stray. you may have held me tight
whispering i was okay. you held me tight.
but you were soon gone and i was only pretending.