When You Lie Down Like That

Each strand a down payment on beauty,

your hair draped like golden fabric,

breasts hidden by threads of sunlight,

and your face, a theater of thought. 

I lie beside you, the room hushed,

as if the world agreed to quiet,

to let your musings travel freely,

and I watch, speculating the script. 

What mosaic spins in your mind,

its loom working unseen, mysterious? 

Is it dreams of far-off places, or 

a tender replay of yesterday? 

The curve of your arm, a gentle line,

draws me closer to the epicenter,

where thoughts and breaths intertwine,

a choreography of silent dreams.