Aubade

gammasandgerunds:

I woke in a gold dress,
you, in jeans.

Morning filled
wine bottles in the kitchen.

Fine mica glitter
of fish scales and salt.

Outside, it was quiet.

You said: That went well,
don’t you think?

Sun behind you

I kissed the hole in the light
and said: Yes.

—Rebecca Lindenberg, Love, an Index