ten

to watch you sleep
and wait for
you to
say my name;
to wonder
what you are
dreaming;
to worry if
there was a
reason for
your lack of
'good-night';
for my hopes
to shoot up
every time
you roll over;
to realize that
the mumbles and
movements you
are producing are
nothing more than
your subconscious
teasing me;
to sit silently,
dying to talk to
you, praying your
arm will snake over
me and give me
that rest and
relaxation I hear
is called 'sleep';
to make sure not
one sound escapes
me as I tear down
a fence and let my
eyes do what they want,
because I think no one
i watching me;
all these nights
when the only thing
coming to me is the silence
punching my ear drums;
these nights when I
must look and not touch
are by far
the worst torture
I could ever fathom.