moonlight

the moon
weeps
silently
draped in cloud
reaching
for her
reflection
far below

framed

 
in
the mirror
as I dry my hair
a frame is formed
the curve of my hip
the arch of my lifted arm
the edge of the mirror
and in the frame
is you
your head
on the pillow
in my bed
almost
touching
the reflected
swell of my breast
and I forget for a moment
about my purpose here
the dryer blows unheeded
as I stare at this wonder
of you in my frame
and wish for a
photographic
memory