I do.

I do.

every night when I close my eyes

put my first foot on the road to dreamland

I cover the nib of my pen

lest the ink might get dry

I fold the left over paper of the day

in clean four folds and

slip it under my pillow

I need to switch off myself

to let the night flow in my veins

to let myself be with you

to let the river roar through

snowy mountains

lush green valleys

treacherous curves

cascading falls

I rush keeping pace with your breath

to meet my ocean

just in time just in time

I do I do I do

for when I slip my fingers under my pillow

my paper comes out

all stretched languishingly

folds and wrinkles all gone

night’s song written on it

and your fingerprints etched…