Eyry

The room will still be here.
Allow night to close your eyes.
Every mote has its anchor

and all is undisturbed
by the whimper of your breath.
Everything is still

in orbit, the neighbours
inhabit their alien worlds,
tracing their constellations.

But I have a crime to report.
I have been robbed of you,
locked behind marble lids.

Sleep makes poor creatures
out of all of us. I must go
and commandeer a rocket ship.

I'll sound the alarm.
It is the only way I know
back to you eyes.