sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night, all knotsMature

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, all knots 
and anxiety and nervous, twitching fingers reaching out for you, 
desperate to find the shore where my weary ship can rest. 
I plant feather-light kisses on your lips, your nose, brush my eyelashes
against your cheek, kiss the dip in your forehead, over and over
and over and over, until the storms raging like hurricanes
in my head have calmed and all that’s left is the static in the air
to remind me that nothing is ever really over.
I wonder if you feel me in your dream, if you can hear 
the creaking sounds the boards of my ship make as they shift and rest 
and shift again; I wonder if you recognize the sounds 
even in your sleep, if you say my name to yourself and smile, 
knowing how I hunger for you, how I seek you out if just to hear
the steadying pulse trapped inside your ribs.  Sometimes
I am too much for this small body, sometimes I am
too wild and too chaotic and too splintered for all the pieces
to fit neatly in this skin (there is never enough room
for all the things I am and all the things I’ve collected), but the
expanse of your body is all the extra space I need and you 
never seem to mind when pieces of me get left on your sands; 
you just swallow them up and promise me they’ll never get away, 
promise me if I dig deep enough, I’ll find them all again.

The End

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