Restorative

looking at you,

standing within an inch of my life
breathing you in
the texture of your voice on my skin
warm breath clouding on a crisp morning
as you go on

all effervescence and sweet softness

about this, that, and the other
your fingers tugging at my sleeve
emphasizing your point,
I swallow through a near-closed throat;
manage an affirmative sound,

I think.

Your existence
the most powerful of magics.
You need no glamour to
encompass worlds within your joy.
You need no sleight of hand to
convince me of your incomparable perfections.

Rest itself,

elusive everywhere,
sleep abandons me-
except where you choose to be.
You are the soul of restfulness for me.
The root and ground of all securities,
the sacred protection of my heart.
Even if you never know it.
I dare not hope.

And yet