In the space between your sleepy breaths,
I dance a little.
I know that soon you’ll be awake,
and I can tell you about all the dreams I thought when you weren’t there.
Perhaps even now,
you’re listening to me
listen to you,
thinking it’s cute that I think you’re not completely aware of the fact that I’m hovering over your sleeping form
like a creep.

There is this part of the sunset,
when the light is wrapping itself in a shawl of dusky haze
and the night is still working out whether it needs shoes and a light jacket
or if the stars will bring extra,
And it’s there I sit with you.

Somewhere along the way
between hungry
and sated
(am I ever though?)
I lose myself
forget my name
forget how to think about
overthinking
everything
including
how a poem
ends