Sometimes, when the night
is well on its way to morning,
I lie awake beside you. The
sheets are hot and twisted
beneath me, but you, soundly
asleep and softly snoring, know
none of this. I want to reach out
and brush your hand, the one that
rests so close to my knee—not to wake you—
but just to feel you; to borrow
your dreams. I turn, and shift the
pillows as silently as I can,
and though I’m careful not to
bump you, my rustling disturbs
you just enough, and you whisper
from your sleep, “I love you.”
The words fall like a blessing.
©️stephanie pepper, 2019
stephanie pepper 