The Sun at 4 A.M.

I am in love with the sun at four A.M. Soft suede,
no bruises. Silent light textured with shadows, painted
with promise, a curried orb of words
I don’t yet know.

At four A.M. the haunted sound
reverberates, a round blue cry of pigmented air.
Day is only a tiny wave, the ocean of madness
still asleep in tumbled hair.

How to describe my body:
full warm sticky flowered unlaced boundless

How to describe the law:
ordered narrow clear