You're already gone when I wake, but I remember you quietly moving about the house, preparing yourself for your busy day. I never hear you slip out of bed, but I also never fail to wake the moment you sweetly pull the covers back over me, making sure I'm warm, then you kiss my face and I try to open my eyes to see you and hug you, reaching out my hand to feel your face. You hush me, placing my hand back under the covers, whispering "shh, sleep". I trust in you and do what you say, returning to my deep sleep and wild dreams with your sweet love keeping me safe.
This one's for you, who took me from another country to be your own, who cuddles me and tickles me and wipes away my tears.
The day normally escapes me, my creative hours always lost in the darkness and fatigue, leaving only the late night hours where my mind is awake and ready to soar. I write and write, gathering my ideas and thoughts, faithfully organizing my next post. Yet I think of you, your face soft as you begin to be overcome with sleep. You never complain. Though I know you wish I was there as much as I do, you let me go after this dream of mine.
I will fight my fight for you today. I will fight back my discouragement and hovering darkness and write with all I've got, leaving the night for the night, so I, too, can care for you in the preciousness of sleep. I'll hold your head in my arms as you ease out of your hurried day into the silence of the night, and I'll kiss your forehead as you do mine, and we'll hold hands like best friends as we fall fast asleep.