It Is Night 1
It is night
Yet I am not tired.
My bed calls me, yet its voice deceives.
For if I lie upon it,
It turns into a rack;
A rack on which my tortured mind
The light is out,
Yet sleep comes not to comfort me,
For before my mind’s eye
Comes your face
Your warm body is beside me
Lying beside me in the dark.
My hands reach out to touch you
But you’re… no longer there.
My lips form your name;
My throat works
And the word,
Shudders out into the darkness;
The blackness of my loneliness.
And I am alone.
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