The Dozen For C.

You smile and
I see--peering through the window
From my POV, you’re inside, without me.

Our secrets are few, and If
I were less vain, I would conclude
you smile, alone at some phantom tap
at the corner of your brain
producing incoherent yet
consistent warmth.
that you are tickled by
such a simple fact of your life,
abstract as it may be;
that with your worry
ambition and
heartache,
I spy with my own two eyes,
from the vantage point of our back porch,
a private smile that detects
the threat of capture.

what you truly see
I can only guess, for our POV's
meet uncertainly.  though we
are at times so similar as to
induce a shudder
that is crushed by your skin,
when you hook our legs and mount me like I’m
some pious, reasonable, hard working,
farmer.

peering through my own window
enjoying your private moment,
in which, I daydream,
I am the principle actor.
I am witnessing a reverie:
that husband of mine, you think,
and smile, teeth bared, alone,
in that moment as you can never be when I’m within your POV

You are perfect alone
in the forest I cannot see
the bears,
or the sun
coursing through the canopy