While you sleep, I dream of you.
But not in the night as romantics often pace their thought to draw out inspiration.
In their sad lyric...
I want to be over. I need to be over.
When the night shines, we lie awake and seek to do better, to be better.
And our thought as thick as a warm fog blanket becomes the spice of our life and Love.
Were it to be breathless, I long for less breath.
Or the night's light to burn out.
I want to drink the kerosene and swallow the wick to carry our moments of stillness and fearful distrust into the cave of our despair. To be lit again on the other side of this mountain, disregarding my life.
To struggle again in heaven's hell,
our staycation for taking the scenic ways.