Armed by hidden difference

I cannot face our folding.

A downward gaze in purple dusk.

Our rest aligned,

In double double beds.

Tangled swirls of

Crowded kin.

My expressive hands in shades of orange - 

Dawn and deep ember.

Radiantly clasped by interlaced fingers

And shared gesture.

With outstretched lace ligaments

I can fold in any direction

instead we expand.