it's you

it's not the drip
of the faucet
that bangs subtly
in rhythm against
the chrome drain,
it's not the wind
pulling
on the tree,
or the shutters
swing.
it's not the dog
some blocks away,
wailing
as he likes to do
with or without
a moon. it's not
any of that
that stirs me,
keeps me awake
through the long night.
it's you.