It’s 4 a.m. and you sigh so sweetly.
I can’t sleep, so I listen to the rain
King pitch poems pure, with passions dug deeply.
What are you dreaming? Please tell me the same.
You roll over, whisper things in my ear
And bring your sun-kissed body close to me.
Your curves: canyons I caress without fear.
At the moment of it all- I can see.
You move into me and take my arm
Then fade back to slumber like it was nothing.
Your love- your presence- keeps my soul from harm.
It makes existence seem like dreaming.
Your rhythm guides me back to blissful sleep.
In my last breaths I know I’m in deep.