just a lil while longer

If you can hear the language of my sleep,
it is whispering
lonely, lonely, lonely
like a mantra, like the steady drip
of water from a leaky faucet.
I am trying to make it say your name
so that it becomes familiar with
your taste, but it's hard
when you're not here.
If you can hear the language of my sleep,
if you listen carefully, you can hear
the prayer in it,
the hallelujah, hallelujah
at 4 a.m when everything feels like an ending and I am just trying
to hold out a little while longer.
If you listen carefully, you can hear the thank you.
You can hear
the swelling of an empty ocean,
the clasped hands of a long talk
with God and my ambivalence.
This is where quiet finds its home.
This is where my poems go to die like little funerals.
This is where they go to be reborn.
Amen. Amen. Amen.


Language of Sleep, Caitlyn Siehl