When I wake before her
I set a *** of coffee
and let my ears catch gunshots

They say the old don’t sleep
that their lives sit too heavy in their heads
volumes full of names they’ve forgotten
and people outlived

At the edge of town hunters drag in doe
They are bulls towing a plow through ash
and bones

I am a boy at daggers with being
and I tell her I know nothing anymore

When she yawned it wasn’t sleep pulling at her
it was her dreams