Honeymoon with the smallest moon
shape and no honey, and still this room
is full of beams and honey. We are
a couple coupling, and I am a wife
lying down with you for the first time.
And staring. How that lash corner brushes
the thin pillow, how your cheek darkens
against the white case. The pots
are battered but hold a love's worth
of noodles, and this bed is big enough
for two: A change for you. In it I get
to touch you alone for the first time
and tell you about all the parts inside
of me, the ones you can feel and
the ones you can't. In nine years
eight months ten days we will do this
with no clocks.