The haze of the flesh dissipated
Into the air and the wall of angles.
Your body lay sleeping next to mine
In the grasp of my right arm.
With constricted pupils and covered eyes,
My high began to fall asleep
Along with the confusion of the evening.
Our naked flesh blended and blurred
Together
As if water washed our bedroom
For a mystic cleanliness.
I placed my left hand over my eyes.
Maybe, I can pivot myself here
And not have us washed away in the naked blur
Where every passing minute washes over us.
Maybe, the angels can help
Keep the vision visable.
Maybe, I’ll open
My eyes and not recognize either of us.
--Todd E. Jones