Watching You Sleep at 6 a.m.

This is the version of you

nobody else gets to see.

The way you breathe

like breathing is something you're good at.

The small sounds you make

that are not words

but contain opinions.

The way you reach, even sleeping,

for something warm.

I should let you rest.

I know that.

But sometimes I just need

a few minutes of this —

of watching you be here,

unguarded and easy,

before the day comes in

with all its noise

and asks us

to be our other selves again.