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I hear her breathing like slumber,
Deep and heavy in concentration.
We spoon in sleep, like cutlery.
She nuzzles and mumbles
a protected snooze,
Guest of the unconscious.

Under her insulation I heat
My legs tense to run.
The heart melds to her
Slowing pump.

My eyes, hard like crab shells.
I ponder chasms cracking my skull.
Her smell incites my raven peck
I try to blink against dried pools
of Iris.

The dawn comes with a bird--
My body, rigid like espresso,
Dilutes with the gray morn.
Sleep pulls her off, My chest is free.
Breathing hurries to find air--
The light headed pallor of breath
after crossing the pool in one.

I held a bird in my hands once,
It shook and buzzed in my callused palm.
I saw black eyes dart
Feathers ruffled with movement.
I saw it frozen in seizure, my great mass
Blocking sun, containing wings.

I feel your breathing
Soft lulling murmus;
I feel responsible for your tenured rest.
Will you sense my shaking?
My open eyes if I do not sleep?
Do my legs shoot out in shock?--

I fear security --
Springtime happiness
Randy good nature --
Trite responsibility--
Your proliferated
Love affair with me.

©1992 Chris Abraham