i feel closest to you at night
or as the setting sun lovingly paints
the floor and walls of my house golden.
i think it's because i associate you with the things that feel
like home.
loving you is like the habitual routine of winding down
for sleep after a long day.
warm, laundered sheets.
the drag of heavy eyes and tired feet
and then
relief when they meet the softness of rest.
that state between consciousness and sleep,
a dreamy, floating escape.
when it's just me, you, and the moon,
we all share some unspoken secret of familiarity.
not always a surging storm,
more like a swift, constant river warmed by the sun.
i even trust you with my dreams,
the one part of myself i truly can't control.
what i'm trying to say, my love,
is that loving you is having all
the safe, soft pockets of time tucked away in my heart.
you are all the good in this world
and loving you illuminates it.