breathless for the blink (pub. Seven Deadly Sins, January 2016)

breathless for the blink

of blue light on my phone
for a message, a sign
that you want me, you’re calling
me — well, not actually
calling me, but calling out
to me; breathless for the blink-
out, black-out, wink
of the bedroom
as you back me into
the wall, as I flip
down the switch
with the blade
of my shoulder;
breathless for the blink
of your eyes in the morning:
are you awake yet,
will you stay, or is this
an aberration, a blip
just before you roll
back over, lids again fastened,
blankness-bound? I’ll bide
the silence for a while,
but bid you: soon,
come break the day with me;
let’s crack the dawn
clean in half.