Dormiveglia

An imbrication of stares and blinks,

my nights have become a reverberation

of your whispers’ lilt.

As I swing back and forth

past my gossamer cloudland,

I envisage how it’d be like to float with

you through the hourglass of sand.

 

The demesne which I used to call mine

has now become your territory.

Trespass all you want, but shush,

you tread on my sleep.