I Wake

*

I wake,

my mind pouring

through files of memories

placing each one at random,

unannounced, fresh before my eyes in

 the shadow of night, to be seen with more detail, 

more clarity than ever before, and I'm lost in a world 

of unwanted thoughts, spiraling inward in spite of me,

proficient, ruthless, finding just  the right nerve to

tap and draw, then I feel your hand rest on the

small of my back, unnaturally warm like

summer, and I breathe, and the 

darkness retreats as the 

files close, secured,

banished inspite 

of me, and I

close my

eyes,

and

 I

.

.

sleep