Monday, January 11, 2010


In a tangle of bed sheets and comforter,

I laid in fitful disgust, waiting

Should sleep come, it would ease my mind.

Yet there is no rest when I cannot

Be where I most want to be.

Images of skin and smells rush back

Flooding my brain and my thoughts

Turn to you.

So distant from me, yet

In this ever-connected world,

I can see your face and it turns my heart.

It fools me into believing

That you are near, and I anticipate

The sleep that is reluctant to come;

The dreams in which

we can finally touch….


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