Snow gathers on the windowsill
The morning drags on lazily
With nowhere to go
And all day to get there
The sun sets the pace
By the time you wake
Dreams will have faded
Tea will have cooled to just right
The dog will have eaten
Though he’ll try to tell you otherwise
You’ve pulled my arm to its place
Across your chest, beneath your hands
And I dare not move it or risk waking you
I wonder what visions you see
Making dreamy fingers tap and squeeze
I see you’ve been stealing again
And take stock in the silence:
– Half of my pillow
– Most of my blankets
– All of my broken-but-still-mending heart
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