How can you sleep
so determined
when I shuffle
and wriggle
and twist and toss
in and out
of dreamstates?

Clamminess –
legs thrust out
from under
the duvet,
pulled back in
as I
evaporate
and chill.

When I rouse from
one of those dreams
where my life
is under
threat
from gangs
of faceless beings –
known but never known –
and distressed,
I reach in for you,
try to wrap
my awkward form
around yours,
seeking reassurances
with heart leaping
under unconscious,
imagined
attack;
you make that
cat sound –
between sleep
and wake –
of contentment.