I Think of You Most at Night

The summer breeze swells outside my window – Sound, then silence – like your sleeping breaths. Maybe that's why I think of you most at night. The sound and silence swirl like we did, when we first met. And whisper like we did. The swelling outside my window is no More perfect than your own sleeping breaths. The cars on Penn Street snore, and a dog barks And makes me think of the night you talked In your sleep, and told me that you loved me Before your waking self had the courage. There was a swelling – outside your logic and fear – of emotion and a truth buoyed by drowsy certainty. Your loved me first asleep. Maybe that's why I think of you most at night. That night, I couldn't sleep, for love and excitement. My pounding heart, whose beat commanded joy, Swelled, sound sound silence, nearly leapt out the window. Maybe that's why I think of you most at night.