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A Half-Lit Room

by Amanda Conlogue

I wonder if you're sleeping now
Seventeen minutes to three a.m.
The only sound in my room
Is the sound of my breathing
And the scratch of this pen
Over paper carried around
For years waiting to be used
There's the soft glow of the lamp
The only light on in the house
Everyone's sleeping, even the dogs
The cat curled by the dying fire
The cool sheets are warming
To my skin, I should be sleeping
But I can't, and now-
Thirteen minutes to three a.m.
I'm tired but I can't help
Fighting sleep, alone in this bed
Dreaming of a time when
I can wake in a half-lit room
And find you, bittersweet eyes
Closed, vulnerable in sleep
Watch the rhythmic rise
And fall of your chest
Reach out, put my hand
To your skin and feel
The pulse of your heart
Radiating warmth
Before sleep claims me.

01/20/2002

Posted on 01/15/2003
Copyright © 2024 Amanda Conlogue

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