Unique for Ciara

To lie still
in the web of her smile
your tongue in your mouth
until she unleashes it
from its lair to wag
and roll,
to lie still
when she rolls her body
hip over hip,
a mountain you wish to climb
and contemplate
this one question:
is this, ‘the house of Bedlam*?’

This one answer:
to lie still
upon her, a breath,
an exhale, is to lie still
amid the collections of the day
and reflections of the night
sky and lie still
in the color of the night,
the color of my hands, the bed linens,
the bed knob, the pillows,
the cuckoo clock
everything motionless white
and morning.

*from “Visits to St. Elizabeths” by Elizabeth Bishop