Cherry Sigh

He laughs in his sleep
as the cherry pie cools
on the rack
His somnolent smile coddles
the fruit in gelatinous languish
slip of syrup oozes
through a hole in the crust
Do the cherries recall
his knuckles nipping
their sinewy stems? Notching
out their pits? Shaping
the raw dough into
a sloped shallow bed
for toasty slumber?

Next to him, I dream of that stroll in Brooklyn
under the flushed light   
of cherry blossoms his curved 
palm over mine our veins aligned
warm flesh for my slim fingers
a squeeze baked in