in almost perfect stillness,
your sleeping breast rises and falls,
so slightly, so secretly.
those breaths you share
only with the sheets and me.
I wonder, as you sleep so sound,
and I lie restless in our bed,
what dreams are yours?
is it me that you see,
the lights in my eyes,
the sound of my breath?
or is it the bright of the city,
the call of something bigger?
I fear I am too small,
too insubstantial to know.

and so I wonder,
and so you sleep…