DJ 7-8-93

If ever so much joy has swelled a heart
as the sight of you sleeping,
then that joy is not one know by me.
For no greater inner rapture
of luck, bliss, and contentment
has been realized by this imperfect body,
whose soul your steady breath does reward.
As the morning's light kisses the downy curves
of your buttocks and back,
I splendor in the knowledge that you - this quiet portrait;
my sequestered masterpiece,
should be at my eyes disposal for all time.
I give thanks for each lock of your hair,
for each half open glimpse of one eye every morning,
above the rampart of pillow
that lives not long between us,
as we greet each other's bodies in the ceremony
of yet another day spent together.