Perspective

On some nights, I can’t sleep unless I leave one arm reaching out, palm open, to the other end of the bed.

I can’t sleep unless I acknowledge my lonesome. And let my mind wander about, fabricating the calm of a familiar touch, a slumbering soul next to mine. That person, whose presence makes me feel safe and peaceful.

On some nights, I can’t sleep unless I leave one arm reaching out, palm open, to the other end of the bed.

I can’t sleep unless I acknowledge my expanse. The fullness of occupation, the spaces my skin leaves untouched. The harmony of being where I am and where I am not; cosmos.

By Iminza

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