Fine Subtle Breathing

A sip of wine, then peace. The swish of your razor

laps my ears and overflows their shore.

The mirror pours out warm, yellow lamplight.

I step from you

and sit, relaxing in this corner of the night,

still at the nape of my neck

your presence, the space supple between us.

Whatever furniture you touch

I sense your fingerprints, one whorl and another,

like silent ripples

reaching past misty water

to the reeds, their soft breath of life.

Outside, the leaves

cast off their weight.