To today’s peach cream dawn
Is a privilege coloured prayer
That my palms behold
As they caress your disheveled hair
In language untold
Your eyes
Restless at the blurry, salt-less taste
Of a day yet to be touched,
Quietly rest back in their cribs
As a gentle curve of infant-joy is birthed
Upon your lips
Waking you up
To the sound of your grape flavoured name
That my tongue and teeth say
With venerating breath
Glides over the air above your ear
And calls you out from the depth
Your fingers
Groggy with honey-like slowness
Reveals itself like the lid of a treasure chest
That has been hiding unsaid confessions
In its wrinkled palm
Softens the world’s aggressions
I find you in a moment of deep surrender
That floats in a blanket-wrapped dream
Waking you up from deep sleep
Gently tears away the shadows asunder
- Rahel
