The architecture of the room

takes into account

the morning sunshine,

its acute angle to my lover’s face.

Like an aura,

it refracts its own beam

to the edges of light,

reposes rather than absorbs.

It seems preposterous

given the size of the sun,

the narrowness of the bed

and the bodies within

but I am witness,

the rays go where

her eyes open, hair falls.

They want this woman known.