I should be sleeping. But my mind is in a frolic. A frenzy. And the fever is caressing me with a welcome warmth. The cold has overstayed its welcome. Now anything hot will do. Is it desperation? Is it depression? Is it devastation?
I should be sleeping. But the conversation is getting louder. With you. With me. In my head. There is laughter. There are tears. And the echo of the thrill is a giddy blink from the phone relaying your reply. Where every word is synonymous to maybe with a dash of hope.
I should be sleeping. But the rain is keeping me company. The somber pitter . The patient patter. The moments they count until I hear from you. Until I read from you. The rhythm of the alert comes through like breath long held. It makes me smile. It makes me scared.
I should be sleeping. But the world is wide awake. And the dreams can wait. Work in progress. Perfection comes and takes shape and it’s not perfect. But it makes sense. You make sense. This is real. I hope it is.
I should be sleeping. You should be sleeping. Maybe we’ll share a dream. Maybe we’ll be together. Maybe we’ll hold each other. Maybe it could be forever. And my eyelids fall prey to hope. A weary surrender.
I should be sleeping.
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