intermission

and then the morning opens its palms
to let the light in, and with it
warmth. the layers worn so long
they are the colour of your skin
peel back and reveal flesh so untouched
you wonder if you ever really sinned

and you are thrown back by it
the simple domestic architecture
the small plants struggling with life
the mundane heroics over looked
in the busyness of your mind.

and you wonder how long you have
been away, your heart cries out
in a different accent and the furniture
looks at you quizzicly, much
like an old friend.

and you wake from your slumber,
completley, the first time
in so very long