Goodnight

You watch the clock,
Eye stalking 1 a.m.
like your cat would a shadow.

It sees a shadow crouching in the corner
And stresses back on its haunches.
Your cat stores violence and energy
In the spring ready quicks of its legs.
When the shadow darts the cat attacks,

Nothing dies and Tiger lounges, licking his paws,
Left with only the satisfaction of preparation.
His feral fix left fettered for now.

So you watch the clock and wait for the morning.
Counting your quirky little technicalities
More steadily than the slipping seconds.

You’ve waited and then celebrated,
Keeping me awake with you.
There is nothing different here at 1 a.m.
Your morning is dark and there are no birds.
There is just the still remembrance of yesterday
hiding in the air, begging to be called night,
And unnatural in the skin of tomorrow.

But you deny that and sleep all morning then,
Left with only the satisfaction of staying alive
Through the entirety of your night distinction.

Good morning,
(You make me say it,
But honestly, good night)
I love you,
(Yes, and Tiger too)
Sleep well.