It's not the dripping
that I always hear
it's just the moaning in her sleep 
resting here beside me

The faucet often awakens me as well

My sleepless nights
we spend together as she restively
walks in mysterious dreams
unknown to me

And I hear the dripping
knowing it must be fixed
but how do I repair all the broken things
in our life

All the things I have to remember 
the things she has forgotten
from moment to moment

As the faucet drips
and drains away
and I lie awake 
hearing

Hearing the breathing
gentle snoring
often tender hopeful grasping of my arm

And the morning birds still sing once more
after nights
of dozing sleep

The scented memory of our love
gives me hope
within the gorges of despair

As she sleeps

Listening to her whispering 
whimpering memories dripping away