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I imagine that
it’s barely possible for me to
almost think I hear you
in the middle of the night
staring soft footed at my silence
listening to my breathing
understanding my body movements
practically reading my dreams

I’m half awake all the time
also half asleep all the time
standing at that boundary
and not bothering to tell the difference
but I don’t open my eyes to see you
though I know you’re there
running your fingers through the strands
of my fragile serenity
flicking your tongue at the tips
of my uncompromising vulnerability

and it makes sleeping easier

as if those moments when
I’ve stolen away from
the prying eyes of the world
also matter
if only to give our haphazardly
disjoint presences
an excuse to simultaneously
exist together

through the ever-watchful
humming, blinking
rectangular pixelated light
of my insomniac
computer screen
.

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