pillow talk

stranded on a satin ocean that bears no relief
I hear sirens that call from the crest of the waves
for I haven’t seen your face in eleven days and I
still can’t fall asleep when you’re away.
if this bed were the ocean, you’d be the stars
so close in reflection but so very far and I
still find your hair on the pillow you left
just a piece of a piece of you I now protect
in my fitful attempts to find sleep every night
while the infant dawn starts to show its traces of light
and I think of how your light could cut through my night
and how you are my moon and for now, out of sight.

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