After our shadows joined hands
bringing out the dark, I was time
smoothing my palms across your
breathing face. I traced tales of cloud
shapes until you believed in sleep.
You slept, waking at dawn for me
to give the day a name. I was Monday
full of roles and hours full of light.
You kept a corral for the sun, rode it every
moment it could stay. It was always time
to crack open the world – the second spring
of a reindeer, rubbing trees and gladness
forming in your head.