I will greet you with hands smelling of oranges.
I will kiss your mouth in your sleep.
I will let you surprise me
Over and over again.
I will curse that my hands can’t bat away all the things that will hurt you.
I will remember—despite the shock—that no matter how many times I have dreamt you
You are your very own dream
From your very own flickering head.
I will breathe you in and mingle you with my familiar cells.
I will breathe you out and let you mingle amongst the hard and soft particles of the air.
I will bring you home,
And I will open the door.
And as much as I delight
In the still unreal thought
of seeing the light bounce
from your face onto mine
I will not hurry you.
(September 2009)