Sunrise

And I woke to sunlight streaming through the windows and the glowing glory of my forgotten crown of amniotic gold.
I met the light with a greeting, a faithful hello I’ve missed you.
I bared my teeth and so white and gold reunite, barred so long by red red winter chapped lips. Hello my darling, winter’s been cruel. The week’s been cruel.
But now there’s not a thing I can do because even the curtains want to soak you up in silver and endless elemental gold, even I want to soak you up because I’m a foetal bud in this premarital matrimonial bed of yours, exposed.
I’m Danaë
But your light has delicacy in its shimmering warmth, its omniscient envelopment. I’ve cried, I’ve smiled, I feel like gurgling like a baby. Dark days have been, and have been, and will will be but all sorrow can be abandoned in this egg yolk yellow joy.

And then you’re there
with your shark toothed smile, sleep framed, like a Highlander returning home
From years abroad
To Hogmanay, to traditions you’d never understood, to your mother’s cooking and New Year’s Day nostalgic in your hungover homecoming
lazy eyed and slow grinning at rediscovery
Of a gentle homeland you’d never known you cared for.

And because you bathed me in warmth last night, and you bathed me in you and your bedclothes and your home and because the primal earth is sunlight
Its homecoming for us both, together, and I’ve never seen you in the sun before. I’ve never seen you lit and bare.

And here you are, falling into sunrise.

And a revelation that brings an anachronistic ‘good morning’.

And most of all ‘mine’.

And then most of all ‘ours’.