From a Photo Album

I.
You can tell it’s been a long day.
She sleeps so still that if I didn’t
Know any better
I might question how real she is.
Or how real I am.
There’s no telling how long it will be
Until she awakens
So I hold my breath in consideration
Of her quiet time.
Because it’s going to be a long night,
Though I’d rather she wake up soon
Because it’s my bed.

II.
I’m not asleep,
But I lay here with heavy hands
And tired eyes
To see if he’ll slip up and say
Something.
It’s always worked before…
He’s not talking. I’ll just
Pout a little so he’ll look
At me more
And realize I’m dreaming of
Him…
He’s still not saying anything
And I’ve been lying here so long
That my eyes really do feel heavy
And my body has never been so
Comfortable.
It doesn’t matter anyway.
I’ll see him when I wake up.
This is his bed.