20131004-073741.jpgToday again I left you asleep under mom’s arm, her sleeping too,
the steady breathing a plea for me to stay, to crawl in alongside,
or maybe I hear what I want to, always desperate for time to be submissive,
to be compassionate and flexible for a moment, just one free breath.
Instead I’ll take out the trash and work another day closer to the weekend,
another day closer to forgetting about time’s incessant oppression,
another day closer to working to live and not its mirrored visage.



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