weary and worn, disrobed and unready,

I succumb to pillows, my head quite heavy

with flickering thoughts of the day gone by

that give way to curious riddles of the mind.

at least, they may say this is how we process,

but I have a hunch that’s not all a dream is.

for in the night I know new dimensions await,

and I travel on threads of another me’s fate.

other nights, I’ve quantum leaps of the heart,

and I see, touch, and taste you though hours apart.

away from the confines of solar designs,

I’m free to travel vortically through space and time,

whisper to you so that you might awaken,

feign surprise at our unending relations,

so until the day again we may meet,

I exalt the beauty of being asleep.