Horses lift their heads like sea
creatures emerging from a darkwater
tide
easily translated in the mythology
of your eyes
but I’m thinking about your
dark hair splashed across the
pillow as you sleep
& the faint whisper
of your dreams
rippling in what’s left of the
moonlight as it spills in through
the window
& your breath like the soft
seabreeze that made the petals of some rare
orchid tremble
in the dark
just before dawn
the day you were born
