The silence between your breaths and my sleep
has become unbearable.
I've wandered up Court Street alone for two nights,
sat on the banks of the ice-water river,
slipped back in beside you, weary and freezing
while you shifted, turning your face to the wall.
Tomorrow you'll wake me up, asking for coffee.
I'll rub your back; we'll have sex while its brewing.
You'll check your email and then take a shower.
I'll wait in vain to hear any real words.