A Jot, from my sofa seat

Love, love, lovely love of mine.
I’m here for you in the sleepy slumber of your nighttime dreams.

On the wind of winding nights as ivy bends and grows on trees.
Do you hear me on the breeze as limbs creak and windows squeak?

Love is the language that I speak.
Love is the rhythm of my heart’s beat.

I grow and I flow in your blood as your racing heart thumps and pumps.
The shallow breath that falls off your lips leaves you pale and weak.

Keep your eyes shut, my love; and fear me not, you see.
The prickles on your skin feel me swirling nearer and nearer; you can’t hide; you can’t compete.

I’m here as you sleep.
As you weep, my love, like the winding vine grows.