I woke up the morning with my eyes
and let you in through my disguise
you shivered stepping on the wet grass of the
front yard with all the toys spilled out like
the bones of the old

you smiled and a wrong wings' wind broke
the silence

and you leaned towards the sun so stubborn
like you could have had such arms of desire
tattooed on the inside while I couldn't think of it
more than my dry mug of tea and the glasses forgotten
on the bedside and I realised
that you are the tree of my life, and I breathed you in and
you built me inside like your precious sun in jigsaws of mirrors
while I dreamt only of stillness inside
this patches of life with my unwoven
sleeves of darkness

I love you I think that I said
a gesture of wiping off all of these mornings of empty beds and
empty mugs and
you, barely turning your head, you
smiled like an Adonis towards this early cold
broke of a dawn
in silence