[Truly Scrumptious]

There’s a sort of eternity
when we’re in bed together
whether silently you awaken
me with the flat of your hand
or sleep breathing with a small scratch
in your throat, or quietly attach
a bird to the sky I dream
as a way in to my body—

Now you have made me excited
to accept heaven as an idea
inside us, perpetual
waters, because you let yourself
fall from a sky you invented
to a sea I vaulted
when it was small rain
accumulating—My heart drained

there and fills now in time
to sketch in the entire
desert landscape we remember
as an ocean port,
that part of me accepting
your trust, a deep
voluptuous thrust into my hours,
that has no earthly power

but lives in believing you were made for me
to give in to completely,
every entry into you the lip
of water that is in itself scant hope
broken into like sleep
by kisses—Policed in the desert
by a shooting star, we are the subversive
love scratched out of the sky, o my visitor.

~ Jane Miller