And so,
I fall against my feathers-
with every intention to slaughter in my sleep.
( as I do every time the moon takes over )

You drape your arm
across my chest
 and mumble incoherent.

I grin, and proceed to count ceiling lines
knowing all will go as planned.
sleeptight, my love.

06/01/2004

Posted on 06/01/2004
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