Let Me Stay Asleep

This feels like a dream.
Not the frantic kind
that slips through your fingers,
but a soft, gentle one,
the kind that settles
into your world
and quietly rearranges the room.

It came without asking,
everything I once imagined
love might be.
It knows my corners.
It sits beside me
without trying to fix
the broken pieces.

Joy keeps finding me
in ordinary places.
A glance.
A smile held one second longer.
The soft certainty
of not being alone
inside myself.

What if I say it out loud
and the room dissolves?
What if naming this feeling
is the same as waking?

So I breathe carefully.
I whisper.
Everything is fragile
in a dream.

If this is sleep,
let me stay here
just a little longer.
Let me believe
that some dreams
are doorways.

And if I wake tomorrow,
let it be slowly,
with this feeling
still warm in my hands.