Like water writing on skin, drawing shapes
With no meaning, she shakes, she starts to rise.
It will be some time before she’s awake.

The morning, quietly, begins to break.
Bold sun, bright through shutters, crosses her eyes
Like water. Writhing, her skin draws its shape

Across sheets. She unfolds, yawns. She drapes
Her hair across the bed, across her thighs
For some time, testing light before she wakes.

It’s worthy. She stirs, almost purrs. She makes
Her tiny motions, distilling small lies
She’ll write with water on skin. She draws shapes

In dust on her bedside table. She takes
Her morning pills. She rocks back, she tries
For some time to persuade herself to wake.

You rest beside her, quiet for her sake,
Waiting for the poem her open eyes
Will write on your skin. Like water, she shapes
The sum of time. You’re patient. She will wake.