Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

Some nights, I’ll wake to the sound of a tap dripping

and find that it’s you beside me, lost in sleep,

freeing soft pops of air from the ‘o’ of your lips.

With the tips of my fingers I feel along the sheet

until I reach your mouth, hover there like a moth,

then gently lower my hand

to feel each burst warm against my palm.

They form into my name, your voice

in our midnight room, spilling into laughter.