Monday, overcast, 34º F (a poem)

It was chilly this morning.

Bluecast morning
downfocused eyes

She’s not sleeping here

Nobody’s sleeping here

Nights come early
and end early

How long they are
is the only thing I think about
before I try to sleep it off

Drowsy mornings bleed
into lazy afternoons
before circling back
to evening’s unwanted intrusion

I stay up late watching movies
and wake up thinking
about how much I miss her

(23 December 2019)



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