a wake / a sleep

In the morning
                                                the chimes tremble,
curtains yawn.
                                                You lay dead
arms cold
                                                eyes frantic under your lids.
I trace your pupil
                                                across your dark brow:
rough cheeks, birthmark
                                                and a lip that is still
dulled.
                                                I have stirred.
I am jealous
                                                of the dreams ensnaring you
from me
                                                dividing / us = apart
and I wait.
                                                You surface
like a diver
                                                from icy water
slipping your hands, 
                                                slapping your arms 
on cracks of ice.
                                                You breathe heavily
and I sense it again
                                                rhythms, patterns
a/sleep                 
                                                a/wake 
with me,
                                                forever, 
with me.