Sitting,
Listening,
Pondering,
Breathing in the clear night,
Basking in the full moon,
Feeling exhaustion.
Drip off of my body,
Feeling the cold nip at my knees,
Gazing up.
My eyes following the lines of constellations,
Taking a moment just to be,
Because there really isn't anything better.

Would you please take my hand?
I know it's cliché but let's run away from here
No let's walk
It'll give us more time to talk.
On nights like this I wish you were closer.
The thin air is turning colder again.
It brings back the memories I don't have of you.
And I'm not sure what I'm feeling but it won't go away.
So please would you take my hand and walk somewhere with me?

You can pour love completely
into a wine glass body
Write heart wrenching verse
pure soul poetry
but when you are beat,
dead,
done,
exhausted
weary
the lover beside you
becomes dismantled
and arranged into parts
of burden
temporarily.
Pointy elbows drilling into spine.
Rock hard knees buckling thighs.
Razor sharp toenails
scour
ankles and calf.
Sprawled limbs
invading your bed half.
Thieves of warm sheets
and cosy duvets.
Gurgling,
snorting roars
snoring,
snoring,
snoring away.
Or teeth grinding
piercing anvil,
hammer and drum.
When extremely tired
Only then your love isn't as fun
as and hour ago
when limbs, torso and flanks
eagerly woven
discarding blankets,
But that was then.
Sleep has a stronger lure
and retorting with your own elbow
or *** shunt
just can't end the snore.
Crying for snoozeville,
you can't take any more.
Suddenly,
a choked snuffle
then blessed silence
as they roll back onto their side
And you sigh, “I love you,”
But grateful for the stop
Better off with bunk beds,
one can still go on top.