To Be Sleeping

Tonight you, my lover, are finally sleeping.
December wreaks havoc on all things circadian.
In such limb-slunged slumber your bedded body swallows its rhythm
I can hear you calling out dreamy-mouthed
Lips sticking & parting:
“Refuge.”
Breath quickens 

with the blanket slipping,
unraveling rhythms circadian.

The two of us spend our winters trading insomnia & adventure.
tonight I am watching you, my lover, slumber
I look up to find the tongue of morning brushing my body,
the highways already cradling their early workers to more productive dreams.
School buses are making their pickups.
The city belongs to birds and dumptrucks
and my lover's pushing freckled dream breath
back and forth over the bed.