Two chests rising and falling between the static,
Two mouth breathers gently gasping for air –
To the beat of their steady little hearts,
Whose sleepy murmurs whisper; we are, we are, we are
And without speaking I know that you’re there,
Somewhere, anywhere, but not here.
Alone but not lonely,
It’s sometime between 2 and 3,
And I’m writing poetry whilst you fall asleep.