I wake up in the dead of night, and you’re gone from the bed.
I hear muttered words outside, quiet but raised up in supplication.
Outside our window, in your teal beanie and bathrobe, you look
To the stars and the white, distant moon, to the domain of angels.
Words of passion and fear and sorrow, and hope and longing and love.
Stars, the eyes of God, watching us in the night, watching our dreams.
I watch your prayer, to the angels and the saints and to God so far above.
What are you asking? What are saying? Do you just want your heart spoken.
Finally, you look back to the earth, and turn to come inside again, wiping
Tears from your eyes. I lay down again, pretend to be asleep as the back door
Closes and I hear you come up the stairs, still with a hitch in your throat.
You crawl into bed, embrace me and kiss my head, say a simple prayer:
“I love you, sweetheart.”