Bathed in Expectancy

When waking, dreamers expected only to be ready

Never did I believe in myself so much

Always rather realistic, believing time wasn’t a guarantee. 

Reaching through the curtains, the sun would aestheticize me 

In the earliest hours of light, even I could be thought new.

An apricot, plump in places, the mouth would find

Between thighs, complexion ripening.

But even then, I wasn’t ready

Solely an image that hadn’t yet become a feeling.

I hoped any body waking before mine would first see

Intensifying case of light, knowing on impact

In bed I am made out to be an illusionary magnification.

Who, after closer gazing, is committed

Sleeping still, dreaming I was not close enough to the hour’s reality.

Nor in a rush to know whether I am alive and possibly

Someone substantial.