written February 2008

I feel like you can’t sleep

if I’m not sleeping.

It’s stupid to be awake

and laughing and doing

while you hibernate.

I want to poke, to shake

you until you are

blinking stickily

and angry at me

for bothering you.

I will apologize

to your scowling face

for rousing you by

shouting, “FIRE!”

And then we

will be together,

not sleeping.