the early hours

i suppose it might be coffee, it might be
the film i watched with you
my curtains were open and
breathing the night air--
and why should i sleep?
when there's nothing in it for me.
the blank cream walls surrounding me.
we painted them together...
fell, exhausted on my messy bed
streaks of paint framing our smiles
you held me then.
i painted our names with a thin-tipped brush
and decorated you in a breathless rush
but you know by now,
the darkness scares me.

my door's ajar and streaming light
i need you here, too, in the night.