There are many pieces to this night
where I sit on seams
of your memory
Sleepless I create constellations
of you
Walking with slow steps,
Lips pursed to kiss,
Hands clutching to hold mine,
or to strumm your guitar
Your endlessness calm
such things alive at this late hour
as me
so I simply build you
over and again,
until the most minute of details
fall to the right
place
And I fall
to one where I dream
shapes of you
