i plait the loose threads

~ i plait the loose threads crushed against pink drying to a powdery white.
~ day comes. the stars are rendered obsolete behind the sun consumed by blue.
~ in this bed your sleeping body forms the shape of a question mark in places touching mine like the answer.
~ the contours of bodies the coastlines of sacred worlds.
~ the willingness with which you offer yourself to my hands. the gift of surrender.
~ from the street below a patchwork of conversations dance their way through the open window.
~ tread carefully. an open envelope spills love onto the floor.