They say that interrupted sleep creates poor moods, but
it isn't true. I tossed and turned all night; so did you.
We turned into each other, clasping hands,
legs wrapped, entwined. We danced all night.
Our movements would pull each other out of slumber
just enough to elicit a kiss, to snuggle deeper, to whisper
"I love you."
Statistically, we slept horribly.
Romantically--beautifully.
I love our broken sleep. Nothing makes me more whole.
Your constant presence at night makes our separation
by day bearable. I have memories of last night to
keep me daydreaming happily, until we are together again.
It's so much better when we're together.
