I watch
the slow movement of sleep
dance across your face
on light legs
reflected from the window.
Time has made you immortal,
trapped as it is
by the rain,
huddled wet in a doorway
with no key.
I too am trapped
by the rain
and you,
in this room full of space
and gestures too late
in their meaning;
no words can fill the years,
and I am grateful
that the illness marks you
with sleep
so you cannot see
the words I weep.
anyway.
the slow movement of sleep
dance across your face
on light legs
reflected from the window.
Time has made you immortal,
trapped as it is
by the rain,
huddled wet in a doorway
with no key.
I too am trapped
by the rain
and you,
in this room full of space
and gestures too late
in their meaning;
no words can fill the years,
and I am grateful
that the illness marks you
with sleep
so you cannot see
the words I weep.
anyway.
Thanks to Danteholic (deviantart)
