Waking on his narrow temporary bed,
surprised without his face,
he looks at
me
with unshuttered tenderness.
I make us breakfast
and we each continue
with our
work.
Soon he shall be out there somewhere
chasing some fresh
and pretty
girl
He shall nuzzle into her, mouth and mind
Outgrow her, chase another
Or be outgrown and
left
And I will miss him in soma and aura, earth and space,
satellites and colonies of duplicitous language
and occasional casual
notes
(First published in Creatrix)