In the icy depths of sleep, in dreams, you held me when I was no one,
just myself, a shell
You held me at the edges where I could have been anyone,
and in sleep, in dreams, is where I miss you the most
For making me believe I was someone, made better, through you
(Is that all we are to one another? An admirer of shells, who sees some beauty in the same? Who hears a song in the silence, who makes an instrument of me, a reason to be?)
In the icy depths of sleep, I am no different than the rest—
it’s you who made me see myself differently.