He looks out the window.
“What a beautiful day,”
he thinks —
“first the full sun, then
the full moon.”
A cat’s demanding love in the neighbor’s yard.
He would be too, except the woman in his bed
is sound asleep and he won’t wake her. Instead
he’ll take his love from the sound of breathing
that is not his own, and from seeing
her hip under the sheet,
so like that white moon. The sun’s
hours away yet, but its time is coming
and he can wait for it, certain of this:
that there are two sides to every day.
Dark Matter 