Christian’s Snores:
Sometimes, as you sleep
Your breath punishes the air
Whipping what feeds you
Other nights, sweet boy
Breaths languish up from your chest
Air falls like feathers.
Sleep (or lack thereof):
Can’t you see you’re killing him?
Please, stay close awhile
Sometimes I think that
He’s been drunk for so long
Happy makes no sense
If only he knew
He’s an opportunity
to write about grief
He should be more than
A muse to a woman-child
Writing about men.
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