on sleepless nights

like jungho, i borrow the title from tuhin.
seems like we've all been afflicted with the lack of sleep
crawled up to bed at 10:47pm,
and now spitting out words of frustration at 12:32am
augh, feels terrible knowing you need the rest,
but can't
my body's protesting against-- i have no idea what.

but yesterday,
a most eerily beautiful scene played across my eyes,
all i see was the interlaced fingers,
the slow sway of their intimate embrace,
the subtle bliss across their dimly lit face--
where i'd like to be someday

that the situation should feel so familiar was a little disturbing,
just a little.