Making love to you, I saw you the second
you recognized yourself in the mirror, or
not quite, not until you stopped — that moment
before you had wanted to turn away — & saw me
in you, as if taking a picture of us,
like this, could blind you
…from yourself?
So you smiled […]
I think.
& perhaps, it was true: each thrust scrubbed you forward
a few inches, until only reflection gripped lightly
the mattress inside the room
… as I trailed behind,
another of my breaths vanishing
after you.
Isle of Hoy 