You are craving it: that deep sleep that makes you forget where and who you are, and yet brings you closer to yourself.

You welcome it with the arms of a lover as you crawl into bed, already claiming it as yours before the lamp light is out. You wait for it to take you, however impatiently, knowing full well that it will take the time it wants to take--at first courting you slowly and then upon you all at once, pulling you deeper into a realm beyond your own. 

It is not the sleeping you love, so much as the dreaming. You long for the stories that unfold behind your eyelids and the parts of yourself to awaken that are too often submerged in a hazy half-sleep throughout the day.

Deeper still you go, to places with no names and languages beyond your scope in the here and now, but that are yours nonetheless--yours always, when you sneak beneath your covers and let sleep take you.

Yes, it is the dreaming you look forward to, so much so that it is a wonder your waking life is not its own dream meant to pass the hours, the minutes until you can once again be claimed by that other place, that other embrace.