behind your eyelids

when we fall asleep tonight, i wonder what you will see in your dreams.

i know that’s a silly question. i normally never ask anything but those to ask you, do i?

that’s what you always told me anyhow. that the words that tumble carelessly from my lips are silly, that they leave you bemused.

i say we, but it is just i here. i don’t know where you’ve been and where you stay, but i still wonder if you fall asleep and dream endlessly. maybe i miss those tales and i write this letter in order to listen to your stories. even though you’re nowhere near me now - maybe we could meet in your dreams.

it sounds like longing, doesn’t it? it is. when i say i long for you, you cut your ears with sharpened nails and vanished into the night. i expected as much. the moon has told me many times to bite my tongue, but i always fall asleep at sunrise and forget.

when we fall asleep tonight, i would like to meet you in my dreams. and when we see each other, i hope hope you draw your knuckles against my cheek and tell me what i want to hear. the shape of your lips, curled into a dizzy smile as you look into my eyes and into me. in my dreams, i want you to indulge me.

in my dreams, you are alive. it is not like this there. in my dreams, you smile, and laugh, and give me your harsh words when you are angry. and we drown in yellow-gold light and brewed fruit and kisses that knock the air out of eachothers lungs. there are no hospital rooms with fluroscent bulbs, and no heart-monitors that cut the silence rigidly

i’ll pretend again that today, you are awake and we fall asleep together. you are not in a hospital bed. your gown is made of silk and ribbon, not surgical linen. the food we eat is wine and bread, not liquid through tubes.

today i felt your hand move when i held it. your eyelids twitch and blink, rapidly. and i get to believe that i will see you in techinicolor instead of mutedly in my sleep, at your side for another night.