each night
i lay perfectly still
waiting for
either sleep
or the sparrows
to break
the ever present
silence
that hangs
a funeral shroud
over my naked form

in the briefest
of moments
as sleep
or madness
clouds my eyes
and i can feel
your warmth
and i know
if i shift
this dream shall
burst
and i will be
all alone again

so i lay
perfectly still
holding my breath
hoping
against hope
you will be there