You know,
if you are in the darkness
long enough
items acquire
unusual form and content.
You know,
if you wake up in the dark,
it doesn’t become lighter
even in a half an hour,
even when the sun is high overhead.
I'm used to your silhouette in the dark.
Only the monitor and feeble light from the next room
illuminates your face.
I'm afraid when the light is up
I'll see how old you are,
how weak are your hands,
how fragile are your bones.
I'm afraid to be afraid to hurt you.
As if a light touch to the cheek
can break the heart.
We hide under the veil of darkness and drama
and you say, everything will be fine,
yet no one can see our faces.
You know,
when fall asleep under the neon lights,
it reminds of a pathologist’ table,
every night I am revealed
while I dream.
In the morning I am sewed neatly.
Just forget to remove the  tape out of my eyes.