Thermal Arve Henriksen

Morning, you lay sleeping
Your small body clinging tightly to mine
With frightening dependency
Life defining, impossible to betray
And with that…
The mattress rose
Set adrift on the burgeoning emotional tide
Colliding with the once stationary objects
Of an uninhabited life
What had been concealed
Was exhaled from god knows where
Colour-drained, unsalvageable
Shape shifting
And, with function relinquished
Resigned from service
Two blue sleeping bags
Nudged against one another
Bearing the once warm imprint of our bodies
The sun-baked stone garden
Retracted its promise
It was cold in that place of perpetual summer
If you were afraid you didn’t show it
You who were born bearing the face
Of irrepressible grief
So as not to disappoint you
I lay motionless
Rapt by the rise and stall of your breathing
Your fingertips and thighs
Quietly affirming my place at your side