New Wonders

Today
you looked at everything
but me

The blades of the fan
hold secrets
huh?

The light
on your shelf
is covered in stars
and
I guess
it must be there
the wonder of creation.

The wall
white
as milk

The floor
worth writhing for

the thread
On my shoulder

Pure
Majesty

And I?
The ladder
The legs
The milk
The fingers

I am meant
to be the force
of your will

all
day

But

when I laid you
in your bed
you looked
at me
as if I'd made them all
as if I crafted every
blessed
thing.