evenings

sunday.

 

the old black clock tick

tock

ticks

and you play with my hair

insomnia reigns.

 

monday.

 

sleep drifts around us like

mist

the tree casts rainy shadows on the wall, and

someone yawns.

 

tuesday.

 

i trace patterns in the ceiling with

my eyes, exploring shadows.

i want to ask you who played batman

in the version i liked, but

i think you’re already asleep.

 

wednesday.

 

your fingers explore my face as though

you’ve never felt it before

you trace my collarbone

and kiss my shoulders

and tell me to have the

sweetest dreams.

 

thursday.

 

i whimper about

my day, and

you hold me together

singing softly.

the chipped white door creaks

and the cat curls up on my knees.

 

friday.

 

it’s quiet on our street tonight

it’s quiet in our room

i wonder briefly where you end

and i begin

but then sweat drips

and time stops

and someone whispers

i love you.

 

saturday.

 

i think the neighbor’s having a party

her dog’s going crazy, and

you can’t stop laughing.

while she listens to bad music,

we make a fort under the covers

and drink wine out of teacups

and talk until dawn.

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