wandering is the dream which we hide out of humiliation
laughable is our fear that we are frightened to share
my heart chides itself for waiting the false fears
shuffling inside of these sheets is every patience
my hand slides past every uneven bit
it rests on your upper thigh - while you sleep
and at that touch these monsters subside
deep is the dark night of my heart's mind
those things that were never a reality
you cannot be so they come to me
my hand tightens and I slide next to you
you stir at my insistence, and, reach back to me
that moment, so innocuous, pulls me
