My arm has gone numb, every cell has grown tense,
yet I will not stir - this frail moment I keep.
Sweet weight - the whole cause of my quiet content,
so you may sleep.
I catch every breath like a whispered confession,
afraid that a half-sound might bring dreams to an end.
Within this kept silence hides all my devotion -
your sleep I attend.
I study your luminous face, undefended,
forgetting fatigue, letting my will abdicate.
It seems I could stay so till centuries ended,
grateful to fate.
My motionless, living, unyielding dome
becomes the still core where calm breathing can stay.
In this stillness - love's highest pull finds its home,
and nothing shall sway.