IN THE QUIET OF EACH NIGHT

In the quiet of each night, I gaze upon

The face of my beloved as she sleeps.

In reality, she safely sleeps so far away

While I, alone with thoughts that come before dreams

Revel in the vision of her sleeping face,

Using the only images I have

To build the scene that plays before me.

Her face wears a still and peaceful sweetness

That I know is not always there

In the "real" world.

I grant her image serenity because I know,

She does not always find it in her life.

Despite what some might think, I view her sleeping form

Covered chastely, because, I am not yet allowed

To go so far...In life, or, in imagination,

And I must respect that for her sake, and for mine.

I watch the gentle rise and fall of each breath,

And, yes, I wish, that I could lay beside her

Resting her head on my chest,

Holding her safely in my arms,

As night passes.

But, even in my imagination, despite

My "hell-raising" past,

I cannot bring myself to violate the trust

She doesn't even know that I am burdened with.

For the time that I can stay, I make love to her,

Not in the way of flesh, but in the way of the heart,

The mind, and the soul.

Then, some well-meaning god tells me that I must go

Before love becomes lust.

And, so, I steal away

In the quiet of each night, knowing

I shall return tomorrow, and,

That she will never know.