I feel as though I have just woken up
From a long sleep, on a cloud, far away.
“Darling,” I say, yawning. “What is today?”
But where you once lied beside me is dust.
I am confused and afraid, but the panic I brush,
Instead crawl to the edge of our piece of sky.
“Where are you?” across the blinding white I cry.
But the silence resounds of years lost to us.
Wide-eyed I searched, cloud to cloud, hushed,
Shaking, night falling upon my empty bed—
“Here I sleep!” a boy! peeping through the cloud said.
Though not you, the sight was a welcome bust.
So I let him stay with me; I suppose I just gave up.
Years more have gone by, and now his arms I fit.
“Better him than be alone,” I think, grin and bear it.
He must be my Light to have saved me from Dusk.
I have not told you—he is a hard man to love.
He often leaves our cloud at night. To where?
“To where? Where do you go?” Ask him myself, I dare
But to no avail. Unanswered, I am forced to trust.
It is in these sad times that my thoughts return to us.
I close my liquid eyes, open my palms to the wind.
“Are you still out there?” I whisper, spiriting you in.
But I can no longer feel you, no heartbeat, no touch.
I feel as though I have finally woken up
From a second sleep, on cotton-blend reality.
“Darling?” My voice is changed. “Are we happy?”
His snore breaks—a ‘yes?’ We are happy enough.
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