sleep has become a boring chore,
another thing I would rather not do.
I'd rather have the moonlight rap me in his dainty arms,
then feel the cold lack of presence.
but that too is long a distance,
far, out of sight in plain view.
we may claim to be a strong,
but the arms of another melt soul into stillness,
the stillness of a lake perfect for skipping stones.
my heart craves a partner for the dance of the bed,
sex, no.
for love, a much slower dance.
for the soft touch of our noses,
the shallow breath on our flesh,
our eyes,
will devour us whole,
and that's quite alright.
for when your skin is so soft and you slip through my arms and melt into my chest,
I will be so happy.
I will finally sleep,
knowing I will see you in the morning.