Far away and awake,
I hope that you're asleep
and that you won't read this
until sunrise proper
stirs you from sweeter dreams
than you've had in a week.
Far from you and from sleep,
I think of you under
the covers of darkness
by the windows of stars,
eyes closed, breathing softly,
floating curled on the waves.
Far along and alone,
I hold the dark magic
dear of the memory
of your head by my neck,
your hair under my hand,
our thoughts close and tangled.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.