I’m pulling up a lake
from another place
as I lift my jeans, button
my top and become
your shirt, a hue between
butter’s silk, fruit
close to the core
of pineapple. The sun
hides, and I imagine you:
coffee, eggs, turning
in your white robe to glance
the paper. I hear your voice
as it takes a couple
tries to clasp
my necklace. I slip
my feet into the future,
warm my hands into deep
pockets and head out
in the rain. You are
showering by now,
stepping onto cool tiles
of light, into the shades
of your closet. Love,
like a thrust of a single
particle, can exist in two
places at the same
time. My body
near a river, your body
near a lake. In either
place, apart, we wait.
A made bed. The night-
stand. A filled oil lamp.
The Quantum Physics of Dressing

Art © abstractjity Nikolay. All rights reserved.
