Suddenly

It usually occurs, the moment before I sleep, a quiet silence, and my thoughts are yours, alone.  And alone has never had that feeling of plurality before you came tumbling down on my world which used to be, so, cold.  King of kings, I wonder, if you could be the sea, sting of stinging nettles, even old Neptune contained beauty.  I let myself think too much… your image imprints the inside of my eyes, so how could I not be happy, for even in the midst of my sorrow, I’d see only you.