At The End Of The Night

Would you stay with me if I asked at the end of the night,

so I can cling a little longer, linger,

skip the wait to find out how it feels to wake up with you?

We could fall asleep entangled in crisp white hotel sheets,

the ones I had booked for just myself,

as innocent as a slumber party if you need it to be.

Would you humor my asking, indulge my impulses,

if only to get a few more hours together,

make up for all the days, weeks, months spent apart

how they felt like they would go on forever?