Dovestoneboy

Nothing

I could remember the myriad of stars

sequined on the black canvas,

and sleep will not come to me yet.

My thoughts are the broken-winged bird

awaiting the breeze of uplifting sleep

the open window , the sun fallen to other skies

somewhere there is chaos and pain

and flowers unseen, untouched by life

but here, and now , there is this

your arm outstretched across my chest

my fingertips traversing the landscape of your skin

between us time has ended,beyond this there is nothing