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By Camille Ikalina Robles
Dawn has a way of casting a shadow
over any night magic,
for when I awaken
and leave your side
doubt and paranoia override my momentary bliss,
the bliss where I trust your electric hands
and absorb words of sensuality and
delight.
Sometimes you are unreachable,
unaware of longing hands and curious eyes,
but when your attention finds me again
I feel like clay,
happy in a good potter’s hands.
I am a blur,
blending and receding,
somehow different under your light,
captured,
and deceptively free.