Turn the light out

I always love falling asleep while he writes

A light would be on, he’d be in bed next to me or

sitting at the desk, hunched over so much it looks as if he’s stretching his back.

I’ll gaze up at him every now and again,

between my drifting to sleep and consciousness.

there’s always something unsettled in me

when I know he’s up, creating, active, restless.

But I don’t mind this

I like it that way

I like it the way of feeling more than my own power

I need to feel my partner

if I didn’t feel unsettled while he’s hustling away,

it wouldn’t be right

I wouldn’t be right any other way.

Even if I could, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

But I love falling asleep when he writes

Why am I soothed to sleep when he writes?

it’s like a lullaby

or a story

I drift away while hearing his pen

His arms shuffling

pages turning.

 

 

 

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