Wake me
Like the scent of havdalah spices
That breathe life into a slumbering soul

Wake me
Like giggling from the other Room naughty kids
Plotting plotting

Wake me
Like the touch on my shoulder
Ever so close to my neck
Your fingers against my flesh

This empty bed pains me
But the prospect of a dead marriage pains me more

Daily grind finds me
Plotting; plotting

But days turn to wasted weeks
Only just plotting; plotting