What Place Is This? Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Your body
shipwrecked

by the wild wide waters of sleep

thrown upon me
as if I were an unknown shore

your breast
cast up upon my chest

like a survivor
wondering: 'What place is this? '

I gather it
in my palm

whisper to it:

'This is Illyria, madame'

'And I...am Love! '

The morning discovers us
speaking with the language of
sunlight and birds

your breast
still asleep in my palm

a smile
spread across your face.