Three in the morning,
and I have been asleep for hours,
but now I am awake.
My dreams bear no resemblance to reality,
and yet they frighten me
in an unreasonable way,
the images of mouths moving,
not even gnashing, just moving in slow whispers,
the green of a field of grass
that hides the person I'm looking for,
the sluggishness of time
when you are running from shapeless things....

Three in the morning
and the sweat drips from the side of my face
and the dips and swells of my chest,
my eyes stare open into the dark
and I can feel the dark rim my body, it touches me.
I reach out sideways to find you, to find some square shape
of solidity and comfort
so that I can lay down again and roll down the sloping of the bed
into your ticking-the-time-away heartbeat...

but the bed does not slope,
the sheets are cold,
and the only movement I feel
is my prey-animal heart.

02/10/2009

Posted on 02/10/2009
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