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Sleep; or Lack Of

With my knees to my chest

I’m watching you sleep

Your chest rises and falls so perfectly

But, how could something like that

Be done imperfectly?

I think I give you too much credit.

 

It’s warm tonight

So I can’t sleep

I don’t know how you sleep through everything

Even this humid, sticky air

 

I’m watching your eyelids flutter with the dreams you must be having

I wonder if I’m ever in them

And I’m thinking of the talk we had

And maybe that’s why I can’t sleep.

And I still don’t know how you sleep through everything.

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