Sleeping

The curtains you call eyelids

are closed.

You lie very still, and i am sure

you are dead.

The hum of your breath

is too gentle.

I want to wake you,

throw back the curtains, and dance

in the light only found

when you look at me

and i am beautiful.

I feel too quiet

and ugly and wandering

when eyes other than yours

dare me.

I feel wasted

without you to savor me

time spent sleeping makes me want to cry.