Tuesday 2am

I reach for you
with cautious confidence-
the way I stretch a hand out in the dark
toward my bedside table, knowing
it’s there, but not precisely where. And yet, when I startle
myself awake, you, unlike my glass of water,
have wandered off- no doubt in pursuit (or avoidance?)
of your own dreamscape
and I am left
in the still-dark hours
of the morning.