V. The Sleep Where I Remain

Part of a poetry novella

I live now in the gentler hours
Where dawn forgets to rise on time,
And silence builds cathedral towers
Within the chambers of my mind.

The day is dim, the voices blur,
Their shapes too sharp, their meanings thin
But in my sleep, your hands recur,
And I remember who I’ve been.

The sky there holds a softer hue,
The streets are warm beneath my feet.
I wake, and lose the ghost of you,
Then drift again, to feel complete.