indigestion of celestial origin

I always want to talk
to you when you're asleep. 
Lying like an angel there,
next to me, invisible.  
I wouldn't want to trouble
your angelic dreams. 
And so I swallow
all my words. 

My belly
screams. 

I know the source 
of this complaint, 
and it's not you. 

It's just these nights'
unspoken wishes 
missing you.