CURVES, BLUE

 

I watch you as you sleep

relaxed and oblivious

the arrangement of your naked curves

unplanned and guileless

profiled in the stark blue moonlight

reflected in the mirror, repeated in the shadows.

Epitome of nature’s design

template for abstract steel sculptures

inspiration to millions of artists

            from cave painters to Rubens to Picasso.

 

I watch you as you sleep

remembering the feelings we couldn’t escape

the phrases that turned back on each other

like twisted Möbius strips

fascinating, surreal, and endless.

Recurring patterns: he said, she said

you meant -- no I didn’t

but you said -- yes, but -- no, but

I love you -- I know, but …

reiterations of a cursive motif

            with no resolution.

 

I watch you as you sleep

remembering how we got here,

coming from such different places

the heedless urgency of our passion

the eager but incremental growth of trust

the cautiously spontaneous process

            of gradually curving together into a couple.

 

And I watch you as you sleep

            trying to understand how we got here

                        with pieces broken off and fingers burned.

 

I watch you as you sleep

I know your every curve and line

but I wonder if I ever knew you

and I wonder if you ever knew me

and I wonder

            if this will be our last night together.

  © John Ambury, 2012. All rights reserved.