Empty Space Matches Your Shape

Poetry Sunday

Poetry Sunday

Photo by Alex Boyd on Unsplash

The moon slips soft between
the clouds and I
slip soft into my bed
where empty space
matches the shape
of you, and I
lay down my head
to fall to restless sleep
now dreaming
that I am kissing you 
instead.

The moon slips quiet through
the night to keep
vigil over you, and I 
wake to tangled sheets
from dreaming
and into the dar…