The first thing I saw this morning was you.

I could see the shine of your eyes
in the dark
as you leaned over the end of your bed
to look down at me, sprawled on the futon,
looking up at the ceiling covered in record albums -
bands I love and some I'd never heard of.

And we filled the quiet morning hour
with whispered and derailed trains of thought,
randomly jumping from one track to the next
in what had to be meaningless chatter -
except it wasn't.

And I could see your teeth gleam
occassionally
when you would raise your head
to laugh or grin at something that I,
I, said.

And I had to wonder
if the light reflecting from
those eyes and that smile
had somehow acted against me,
blinding you with your own light.

You were looking down at me when I woke,
but I know you didn't see me...
not the way I saw you.

02/01/2004

Author's Note: Topic from Joe Chiles. Can't get the ending right. Argh.

Posted on 02/01/2004
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