I will leave the light on
I leave the light on
while you sleep.
Not because you need it,
but because
I fear to forget
the exact shape of your
breathing.
The wind moves
through the trees,
and I think:
perhaps the universe is not
endless,
perhaps it is only this one breath
threading itself through everything.
Your hand rests on mine,
and I feel a small gravity
as if two planets
had quietly agreed
to stop their wandering
And sometimes
the sky is nothing but a blank page.
Then I wonder
if the stars are not
words
we have not yet learned to read.
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