While You Sleep (New) Poem by Alison Rosalie

tip-toe.
leaves lay fragile and scattered,
sprawled across cement steps.
tip-toeing, i make my descent.
the air is empty and breathless.
opalescent clouds veil the moon.

i can hardly see the stars.

i wonder if you're conscious
or merely pretending to be:
bleeding beer, breathing thc,
speaking cocaine and feeling ecstasy.
while your mind secretly dreams
i wonder
if you think of me.

my skin smells of sulfur.
my back is sore from bending forward
and staring into the jittering screen.

mistaken by the moon's tender reflection,
moths plummet head-first into puddles.
a train somewhere sighs
as hazy caws fall to sleep.