On ...nothing in particular

Love is what keeps me awake

As you lie asleep beside me

Choosing dreams from a concrete sky;

Like a breath struggling to escape from a constricted chest

And struggling to remain,

Knowing that the moment of cowardice

Is the end

Less in showers, in storms and drizzles,

More in the musty, dank smells of afterward

When your arms are no longer around me

I face the woman and the stranger alone.

Love is a game we both play

For our own prizes, our triumphs

Yours is the business of life

Mine a wait for life to start.

But meanwhile, I have you

The spaces between us

The togetherness of cramped bodies

The conversations, the quiet

The need, the apathy

Me and you

Partners in a cosmic crime

Ending as it began

With love…

PS: Something that pretends to be poetry...haven't tried to write one in ages...this one just came up...