Nightspeaking

I wrote this when awakened at three in the morning it eventually turned into this poem

the whispery words
slipped from my lips
to the place
where phrases uttered
to infants and ghosts
or,
the dreaming
are stored
and while they are not
remembered
nor do they go on any
official record
they are felt

and understood.
My cheek rests against you;
you stir
ever so slightly
in response.
oh! if i could be where you are