By All Means, Wake Me.

If ever you find yourself in my bed,
I hope I have not fallen asleep without you.

(However, if I have-
By all means,
Wake me.)

If ever you are lying silently
In even the slightest
Discomfort
Or sadness
Or confusion,
Beside me,
And my REM trance,
I hope you will not hesitate to reach
A hesitant hand toward me,
And interrupt any dream
Of mine.

(As you,
Yourself,
Are a dream
Far greater,)

I hope you may feel the inexplicable comfort
With me
That may intimate
To you
So assuredly,
“Wake her,”

And you will feel
As if you should listen.

(My breath will rise
And fall.
My breath will rise
And fall.
You will wake me
And I will rise
Each summer, winter,
Spring and fall.)

You will know that I will wake,
And I will hold you,
Or I will listen,
Or I will boil hot water,
And crack the spine of a book-

Or I-
I will simply and presently occupy the space
Beside you.

(Your breath will rise
And fall.
Your breath will rise
And fall.
I can only hope
My open arms
Will make me
worth the fall.)

I hope you know that I will do so,
Each and every
Night,

(I would like to love you,
Tirelessly.)

I will do so without dreary tiredness,
Without overly excessive concern,
Without an expression that reads,
“I would rather be sleeping.”

(As there is nothing I would rather do
Than trace the eyeliner
Flaking from your face
And look into your sleepy,
Half-lidded eyes.)

I will do so,
So that you may do so- without guilt,
Without hesitation,
Without embarrassment.

By all means,
Wake me.

(My breath will rise
And fall.
My breath will rise
And fall.
You will wake me
And I will rise-
In love, so swiftly,
Will I fall.)