There is nothing more beautiful than your breathing body
moving up and down on its own accord.
It’s nothing more extraordinary than
the spinning of the world or
the movement of the stars or
the setting of the sun.

The world doesn’t decide to turn,
it just does.
You don’t decide to lay there perfectly,
you just do.

You rise up with each inhale
you rise up with the strength
of a heart beating on its own
of bones holding organs
while skin holds bones
I would hold your skin if you’d let me
I’d meld your risen body into mine
if only you’d raise me with you
but you,

you fall with each exhale.
You fall in the restfulness
of a day well worn
of worn out eyes all dried up
of a weight now weightless
let the weight of your head
fall on my chest.

There is something beautiful about the uncontrolled
rising and falling of your body,
your body remembers how to love herself
when you’re asleep.

That’s a fucking miracle to me.