Poetry 12:06am

Poetry 12:06am  

Curled beside you in a single bed,
I am a hermit crab, tucked
neatly in its shell.

On the dream-catcher pillow,
our heads graze, mingle dark
hair with light.

Your shallow breathing speaks,
like the sea whispering its secrets
through an open shell –

It says that you’re not quite asleep
yet, but you’re doing a damn good job
of pretending.

Ignoring the scratching of a pen
pouring out its inky insides comes
easily to you now.

Midnight brings a spell, pulls words
from me like running water,
spills letters on the page.

While outside, the blue-black sky
is at its darkest, and the snoozing
street absorbs sound,

Poetry lives in these cotton bed
sheets, lurks here in steady silence,
waits for sleep.

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