There is nowhere you would rather be.
You cannot sleep.
Blame the coffee.

Lay there.
Her stomach rises and falls

Close your eyes
remember the waves you first learned to love
how they washed up and down your four year old body.

She rolls to you,
murmurs something you cannot make out,
you ask what was said
it is the same muffled whisper

touch her arm
kiss her shoulder
she comes closer.

You recall this honest twisting of lips
forgot how easily it came

Close your eyes
that first touch of a basketball
the excitement flowing through legs
dribbling your way forward

Open your eyes
find hers gazing upon you

she awoke to snoring
says she’ll be in the next room

Blame the cigarettes

she asks to be awoken when you do

hear her in the hall
in the bathroom
going into the next room

close your eyes