still

still, sleepless in the bottom of the house

he lays asleep upstairs, warm, the familiar sound of his breathing filling the space at the head of the bed

I sit, quiet in the mostly dark room

praying that sleep flirts with me, takes me into its arms

still, I know when I climb back into that bed, and feel him beside me

that sleep will run down the hall, leaving me behind

bewildered

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