Sleep Walking

I thought I heard you talking in your sleep,
like milk white petals spilling down my chin
scurrying towards the night like a pillow.
I heard you whispering dreams to the window
light that stood watching like a veranda,
and somehow the words made perfect sense.
I watched as you turned over the sheets
and wrestled the folding flesh of me
closer, the silent abstraction becoming
even quieter.
I thought I heard but perhaps I was just
sleep walking in the stars of your brow.

Kevin Harling.