Settling, Coming to Rest
I write some poems in seconds
these I can hardly take credit for
like one who knocks over a piece of furniture
in the dark
This is an accidental sound poem
it comes to me
not the other way around
The little tremors
beneath you
I slid down from the wall
to the pillow
to join your deep breaths with mine
Your heart beats through your clothes
through your skin
as if it’s only wish was to jump into my body
I move to leave
and a smile, eyes closed
draws me back
to repeat these words
in my mind
They run through my body
on a track
like blood in veins
I tell you I love you
when you sleep
because I know you will hear me
When awake
we often hear only
what we want
