poem: In The Small

in the small

of my back

is a pain

where I slept

too long

because

I fell asleep

thinking

of you

next to me

my head

over your

heartbeat

your hand

on my cheek

drifting

away

from the

everyday

impossibilities

and the pain

of old houses

and the songs

once sang

faded away

under closed

eyes

and holding

you close

and being

held

by you,

too.

I slept

too well

not wanting

to

wake up

without

you.