While you're away,
my thoughts wander
nomadically through
a sleepless desert.
I wonder if you're awake,
reaching to your left
as I reach to my right,
whispering, 'I love you,'
like I whisper
to the silence.
How can I sleep without
the soft cadence of
your breaths
singing me a lullaby?
Without the heat
of your body
reminding me
you're at my side?
Without your gentle
tossing and turning
to spur my imagination
and wonderment
at what could be alive
in your beautiful mind?
I've become an insomniac
wishing you were here,
wishing I could hold you again,
wishing you weren't
hundreds of miles away.
Rest only comes
when I cling to the hope
of your return.
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 1:45 AM UTC
While you're away,
my thoughts wander
nomadically through
a sleepless desert.
I wonder if you're awake,
reaching to your left
as I reach to my right,
whispering, 'I love you,'
like I whisper
to the silence.
How can I sleep without
the soft cadence of
your breaths
singing me a lullaby?
Without the heat
of your body
reminding me
you're at my side?
Without your gentle
tossing and turning
to spur my imagination
and wonderment
at what could be alive
in your beautiful mind?
I've become an insomniac
wishing you were here,
wishing I could hold you again,
wishing you weren't
hundreds of miles away.
Rest only comes
when I cling to the hope
of your return.
