Wayne-Daniel Berard
Sleeping with you
Not only have you so redeemed my days,
you have entirely rescued even sleep,
everything — your breath, your touch, your ways —
comes more alive, not less; more real, more deep.
Without a need to move a single inch,
in the warm undarkness of your arms,
we give the waking world its jealous flinch,
we kiss each other’s eyes, and all the harms,
the plans, the almost theres, the should have beens
close up like anxious flowers tired of light,
and without any virtues, any sins,
the openness that only blooms at night
scoops itself around me; that is you.
Some call this sleep; I call this dream
come true.
