I have sown the night in so

each star can be a firefly dancing on your wall.

And together we hang like puppets

by the thread of this moment, we are held

and held are your bodies

safely by a wooden shelf and my indigo blankets

you’re hugged in sheets of cotton and music.

I promised to keep you like this.

Will it help if I sing? Or should I read?

Even with the door propped open,

even with a the cloud that will soon start raining

even if I leave you alone

you’ll have soft light to caress your cheek

as I do

a green-eyed cat holding your coat

as I do

a feathersoft carpet to lay on

as you do

and a stained-glass lamp that reminds you to call

as you will.

Will you?

Sing.

Here is all I can sing:

I love you

I love you

I love you.