different light

The dark yellow city light
is on your face,
close to mine,
as the pattering night rain
from a just-open window
drums us to sleep.

In the morning
the sky is bright and checkered
with cumulus clouds---
cumulus, meaning
'heap' or 'pile,' in Latin.
The warm air lifts up
and cools down
gathering
into water droplets,
into white cloud, against blue.

After days of rain,
clean light streams
through the upper shutters
of the window, in stripes.
You are standing:
the light in bars
against your bare
torso, your ribcage

I only mean
to remember
the light
on your closing face
and your standing
open body