Anisur Rahman. Dhaka
Midnight leaned against the window,
quiet as a held breath.
Another country held your sleep,
another sky kept watch over you.
I was tangled in hours and tasks,
papers, screens, unfinished thoughts,
the clock moving without mercy
while your absence stayed still.
When I returned—
tired, loosened from the day—
I checked the glowing silence
of Messenger and WhatsApp,
and found you there,
sleeping.
Your last trace was softness:
no words, no questions,
only the knowledge that rest
had finally claimed you.
I did not wake you.
Love knows when not to knock.
I let the moment be,
like a light left on
in another room.
So I whispered nothing into the dark,
only felt my heart
looking for you—
across borders,
across time zones,
finding you not awake,
but safe.
And somehow,
that was enough
to let the night
close gently around me.
