By Lillian Kwok
I blink and your face is beside me, breathing my breath in and out
until we´re two pieces of silk
curtain in the wind. The window is half open to the light green
dawn. The ghosts are floating back
to their dark corners. This isn´t the night
that knows no dawn, it´s the morning that never ends.
Slow and filling with sun, we move
with the movement of the sleeping, with my body cradled back
against yours and we never wake up completely.
Published 4/7/14. To see more of Lillian's work, go to her Awst Press page.