sleep, 13

[schaufemweg]

there are hours when everything you do, no matter how gentle, affectionate, brash or insignificant, causes me pain. what hurts me in these times isn't you, who bring to me only beautifully, honestly yourself - no, what hurts here is the fact that i can't melt into you wholly, that regardless how close my heart may come to yours, it must live a separate life in order to love you.
would that i were an enzyme in your belly. some lung that would always breathe in you when you sleep.