Maria Zajkowski: Species counterpoint

Last night a few stars came into our room
and the moon in a dark suit sifted through my washing.
I watched as dreams performed above your head
little snowstorms in a night-bubble.

Through your body a tide came and went, your dream elongated,
the snow became an undulating whale of light.
I settled to watch the pair of you exchange dimensions.

This morning you woke charmingly iridescent
and reeled me in to sing with you deep continuous songs.