sleep

I am not sleeping this night-time because we, this elegant little dyad of us - can sleep any time. Can curl up and sink our noses into each other's folds that are scentless in their familiarity. Custard-silk creases. Luxury trimmed in richness. I am also not sleeping because I'm not at home and everything is a quarter-turn past perfectly comfortably familiar. The realization of this is tedious because it reminds me how hard and long it feels before things settle into home-ness. And this, of course, juxtaposes with the back-to-other-side-world-ness that is forthcoming. And the thought of reworking that transition, yet again, is a little achey and sharp. Perhaps tacking on an entourage this time around will rub the edges some. I'd like that. And I'd like sleep.