Foam memory

What's better than a sleep
a restful bliss in the night
deprived, are the insomniacs

what's better than this body
your one own true house
to take you in, to let you be?

slowly, it descends onto you
the night, masterful player
of what you are and what you will be

I know myself by keeping time

I keep time, the way a farmer looks after grains
with a serene knowledge that there will be blossom
in the spring. I keep time like grains

I keep grains like I do memory
some fresh with today's hope
some other laden with the grief that finds me when I least expect it

like watching you sleep

like seeing your body rise and fall in breath
in some other person's dream
there is a memory to where my hands reach for you

foam memory, the indentation that is left
when your body rises, that the bed remembers you
the way my knuckles fill softly the spots where your fingers should have been

this memory wraps us both
like a foam that reverts to be
not the surface of the sea

but what's better than sleep, for us, those who think before closing their eyes.