Poetry by Jael
by jael bietsch

Separate, we fall into sleep,
flailing against the repeat
that hounds our dreams, punching holes
in walls where sleep lives, sharding night
around which we must tread carefully.

We find solace in our union,
shielding eachother from roaring spaces.
In our symmetry we fit tight,
draped together, unassailable,
our joined shape
ward against breach of night.

A comfort to rest my head
in the hollow of your breast,
counting the measure, your pulse
lulling my course into sleep,
to taste your breath and the salt
of your skin, feel the press
of your lips in my hair.

In the break, I recognize your face,
sweet with shadows as if tears
darkened your eyes serious
and stained your cheeks sad.
I know sleep a stage
where dreams' substance rises
to my lips, and yours a face
I trust with murmured secrets.

Turning together in moments of hush,
knowing the tossed weight of your arm,
over, and around, pulling together,
the press of your heart to my back.

Counting the lull, your pulse,
measuring our course into sleep,
letting the slip of night pull me down
into your dreams, enwombed
in blankets and bodies and breath.

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    © 1995 Jael Bietsch

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    March 8, 2000