That I

It is there,
Unsettling.
In that in-between space,
That I come face to face,
That,
I feel my heart, race.
That I see a quiet murmur,
Upon lips that I taste.
Stirring in this sleepless place,
That I,
Shift the sight,
Shift the plight of, foundless night,
Through the fractured prism,
Of different coloured light.
That I smear and blend beneath a palm,
The reflection seen,
Looking back.
Asking if I dream,
Or,
If I dreamt.
Or,
If indeed this is,
Goodnight.