Symphony

     Nighttime—a symphony of sounds. It’s strange how the dry brushing of skin of skin, a sandpaper rhythm, can so clearly paint the picture of your sleeping form, the fluttering eyelids of dreaming and the soft movement of breathing. If I lived entirely by sound, the world would seem so much more beautiful. I would no longer mistake sunset for dawn. I could lace myself between each incision of sound, stretch amidst the silence that waits there, holding my breath to match the slow pattern of yours.