TV's Bluish Light
Like a moth, I'm drawn
out of my bedroom, down
the hallway flickered in blue
shadows. She's there on the sofa,
as usual, on her side asleep.
Her glasses tilted where they rest
against the cushion are lit with
figures dancing in black and white.
My body breaks the light
when I lean to press the switch.
No, leave it on, she says, taking
off her glasses and holding
out her arms. Come, lie down
with me, and I do. Wrapped
in the warm husk of her embrace,
I gaze upon the shining stars.
First appeared in The
Noe Valley Voice, December 2001
P. J. Taylor ©2001
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