your eyes
resigned and dark
like they've never seen a minute of sleep
(i mean this in the best way)
sometimes i catch myself staring and look away
because i am afraid that
if i gaze for too long
i'll never be able to stop
(please don't be offended)
and your tired voice
as though you feel you have to speak softly
or it will shatter this fragile thing
between us
sometimes i don't understand your murmurs
but they're beautiful all the same
and i don't ask you to repeat yourself
because i don't want you to think
you should ever speak louder
you are
the kind of sleepy   
i wouldn't mind listening to
(or looking at)
(or kissing)
for the rest of forever
your eyes say 'let me sleep'
and the timbre of your voice
replies 'if only i could'
but your words persist
fueled only by
your unrelenting interest
in
me