The Sultan's Turret

Vikram Seth

Dawnlight; I wake; and wait for you, uneasy
With early dreams: r.e.m., twist and mutter -
Here, let me touch your shoulder. Hmm. Real.
Rub eyes. The room asserts itself, a clutter
Of books - my yearns, your jeans ( <-fertile; sleazy ->)
An upset yogurt dripping through my socks.
Dawnlight: striations on the ceiling now.
Aurora - and her sister Mocha too?
But I'm content, wombed in the quilt with you,
To let the cra-hums, chirrups, ticks and tocks
And your soft breathing hold me till I feel
Far sleepier - and awaker too, somehow,
Than I ... the light sheathes your reluctant head,
You blink. I smile. We kiss. 'Your turn.' I nod.
(Duty, stern Daughter of the Voice of God!)
The errant Coffeeman gets out of bed.