Comment 1



i have missed the feel
of my man sweating while
he sleeps. last night’s

spring time heat was
glorious. when he is tired
he tries to crash into bed

wearing a mountain of clothes–
i undress him because i know
that if he falls asleep like this

he will get too hot and not hold me
and then my dreams will stay with me
all next day in the worst kind of way

possible. i am like an infant who needs
the arms of the one i love to sleep.
the next three nights will be darkdarkdark

and veryvery long. i have nothing to drink or
smoke to ease the cold and empty… and
i drove myself here — it’s my own fault.

This entry was posted in: poetry

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