LandscapeA landscape of freckled skinlies next to mine,painted blueby the dim light of an alarm clock.I rest, protected by the warmthof a sleeping body whosecalloused hands fit mine with suchbeautiful imperfection;whose fearless eyes awaken mefrom a business casual haze;whose dimpled smile reminds methere are sun soaked mountain summitsawaiting my arrival, andI can be fearless, too.I've been fearless all along.A landscape of freckled skinlies next to mine,and there is no smile,no body,no insignificant momentI would rather callmy own.