Slumber #1

at two, rising from
the little death of
sleep, I turn to see
your ghost in slumber spilling
across the bed beside
me, wrapped in purple and
blue, for one night in town
again, passing through
pages of desire I cannot help
but write, under your name,
again addressed to me,
love letters scrawled in
chicken scratch, your fading hand.

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One thought on “Slumber #1

  1. I really dig the somber tone of your poems. Many of mine evoke a similar feel of pessimism, and maybe have a glimmer of light that may be hope or memories of it, like this, but I also try to reach for Romanticism when I can.

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