The book was laid open beside your head, which was
turned sideways so that you blew a wind of breath
across its face as you slept. Once again you slept where you fell,
a shadow of an angel collapsing in a corner, onto stone, with your
window shades shut to words and the
dimming amber of light that deliquesced itself onto the walls and floor
of your bedroom. This time was a record: you’d fallen into dreams
less than five feet from your own bed. We laughed, and
left you sleeping.
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