Café Philos: an internet café

Brandon E. sent me a very good poem last night. The poem recalls for me the times I've studied every breath a lover took towards sleep; studied every breath with fascination, as if witnessing a life for the first time. The poem is called, "Twilight (for my love)":


halfway between the dinky birds
and me
she lies,
the curve of her back
under my hand.
her breath leaves
and returns,
in the steady rhythm of almost-sleep.
a twitch of body
whose mind is sailing
hurtling
through the void
a thousand miles a second.
one last deep breath
before the rhythm
slows
and settles,
and she falls finally within,
beneath,
to who knows where.


- Brandon E.


Thank you, Brandon, for allowing me to post this.