Monday, February 2, 2009

white

i am sick tonight.
nothing to eat.
nothing to drink.
she wishes for me to sleep.
a deep and soft sleep.
so that i may be soothed
and better.
the bed is soft.
now comes the deep.
she hopes it will stay amongst the rustling.
and typing.
and brush of the fan.
tomorrow i will fill it with words,
but for tonight.
only sleep.

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