project sleep

shattered shells
and broken bubbles
collect themselves
upon the windshield

the rain keeps crashing upon us

from left to right
and back again,
the wipers
chase one another
to a beat
unknown to the sky;
lovers
lost,
turning their heads
when they ought to
stay still

a head rocks
upon the shores
of a shoulder,
pressing into a body
like waves upon the Earth

they sleep in their seats
like sloppy drunks,
sloshing and tossing about;
and yet ...
their fingers find their way
around each other's hands,
holding,
anchored together
by the same pulse
beating beneath
their skin

Let the lovers sleep.
Always let lovers sleep.
So that
maybe tonight,
instead of finding you in my dreams,
it is myself I find in yours.