My body is changing.
I lay in bed
with other changing bodies.
My dog's arms have circled and buckled
tightly into her breast
and her eyes carry a blue fog
swept in over the years across her iris.
There is a man here as we sleep
and he is aging too.
His beautiful hands
thick with the day
and all he chooses to carry
toward the bounty of our lives.
I sleep by the window
I tend to take up most of the bed
and after all these years I am still
unabashed about that.
We have side tables with books.
We have our own lamps and dreams.
There is water should we need it.
There is a luxury of comforters and pillows.
When the dog stirs suddenly in the night
it's the man who wakes and worries.
He reaches for her small body, tenderly
and takes her out into the yard.
I wake only when they return
and reposition my body
to curl around my most beloved bodies.
While all along
there is a moon melting us
closer to sky
illuminating our love
our deep, nourishing sleep
whispering: these are the moments
these are the nights
your heart will return to
again and again.