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stolen moments


It’s right there
the lobe of your ear
half hiding under the forsaken mess
that’s always your morning hair:
it’s so close to my lips
they can almost feel
its rounded shapeliness.

My teeth are calling
for a nibble

just a little one

and for a while I contemplate your sleeping face
and all that gentle. graceful lace
which of late adorns your eyes.
You look so peaceful and calm —
sleep brings you this quiet smile
and the same gentle abandon
of a child.

I wonder if you know how
in the quiet hours of my night
I often sit and
wait and watch your sleep:

— your gentle curving brow
and that furrow, so deep,
on your forehead;

-the now soft and mellow glow
of what was once your fiery hair,
and your skin so soft and fair:

you are balm and tenderness
and always unexpected caress.

And so I sit and watch you there
as you lie beside me and I behold
all those things so dear to me
as if they were mine alone to hold
and keep:

a silent fear, a hurried prayer
lest one day I just forget
or I no longer find them there.
© Nina Light 2015

image credit: detail from “Endymion Sleeping”. Part of the sculptural group “Selena and Endymion.” Marble. Roman copy of a Greek original from II. BC. e. Inv. A number 23. Saint-Petersburg, The State Hermitage Museum. Photographer unknown. If yours please get in touch.

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