Changed

Watching your body folded to sleep
getting higher from your respirations
and then plummeting 
like evening doves diving
from the rafters of the old Mayfield Theatre.
Your phoenix lies still tonight,
in vigil and in awe
of the tattooed Venus;
with a sway that could cut glass,
shake the heavens,
and raise up fire and brimstone.
But in all her glorious luster
she willing chooses generosity
when it's natural to take,
I am entangled in what she creates.
I am undeserving but grateful
for the touch in which she's changed me.
Blueprints and calculations useless now,
her aurora's become part of my framing.