LOVING ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON THAT SPREAD THROUGH A WASHED-CLEAN GLASS-WINDOW

Bright gold of the ripe day oozes over

The succumbing petals of the bedside flowers;
Your gold fish breathes, wide-eyeing us from its clear bowl.

All noon we lay naked on the bed

Not once looking at the bodies

That had by now returned to their own skins.

The afternoon held time in a limbo

And we slept and woke,
Breathing the slow heat,

Breaking in golden sweat,

Until the ring in your sleepy hand
tugged at my hair and broke the spell.