making love on september eleventh

You both were
asleep,
on the bed-

side table watched your glasses,
the clock all colon-eyes, glowing
and accounting minutes from hours.

She knew
you wanted to
just from the way

your toe grazed her calf.
it was like a seven
forty-seven.

the headboard shook,
shook and cried.
you rose.

inside, dark and fumbling.
smoking, smoking, like your mother
when they met in the backyard,

twelve years ago. and
impact. Nicking the skin,
knuckles raking it dry.

this, second. the second tower,
that second coming.
growing tired. sagging.

the hairs on your chin menaced
like a thousand paperclip shards
her thin lips.

shrieking. dancing the line
between joy and grief.
ties and nooses.

looking skyward over the Hudson
just past the husband
and everything explodes.

You both were
asleep,
on the bed.