.On the Right Side of Midnight.


you are asleep, my love

and i am on the eye-fluttering side of awake.

it is raining here

tap, tap, tapping on my eyelids

like the whispers i sometimes listen to at night.


i’d like to listen to your whispers

on this side of midnight

the tap, tap, tapping of your raindrop fingertips

on the slope of my sleeping—or almost sleeping—spine.


i want to blearily blink my gaze out

the morning window at the summer rain

sliding slick and hot and sizzling down the glass.


i want to roll over on the other side of midnight

and coo each other back to sleep.

“not yet, not yet. dream a little longer, my love.”


the hot sun comes soon enough— not soon enough—

but i am asleep in your head while the frost thaws

on opposite sides of midnight

hoping, praying, spellcasting

that this will be enough.