How to measure this space between us
unrevealed in the night air?
I rise like dark smoke
restless as the room itself
waiting, its arms around
the emptiness,
everything still as bats
hanging from the ceiling,
as the moon that smooth disk
of sleeplessness I honor
climbs the far window
like snail silver on glass.
My slow breathing
a pretense at still sleeping,
cold air entering and leaving
my lungs without warmth.
Were frost to halo my body,
a ghost lighting the center of the room,
would you wake, rise
from the invisible well of sleep
hold and warm me again?
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