We talked into the night

We talked into the night
and filled the air with soft sounds,
of your voice. Meeting mine.
Entwined in night air.

Then your voice grew fainter
flow slowing to soft breaths.
Softer breaths.

When I knew you were asleep:
could no longer listen to your breathing
or the sound of your hair,
rolling lightly over pillow Cover,
like hand on slow blowing wheat.

I heard the rain.
That spat down on windowsill.
Impatient taunting fingers,
reminding me that I am alone when you are gone.

The dull drum of large drops,
that sop the top and drop down
to the street that seems so high
now.

I lay awake, pull you closer and sit up straight.

I am alone for now,
but soon I’ll sleep.
And rain will be stopped when we wake.

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