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Sep 2013
He scrunches his eyelids.
Peers through the half-closed curtains,
Which cover those big eyes with a color that has yet to be named,
At the bright light of lovely advancement
That connects him to me.
He's sleep stubborn.
Refuses to cave.
Until those curtains close themselves,
Until only sporadically does the bright light seem to shine.
Lit up with my awake little talks,
While he tries his very best to hide his sleepy eyes.
But he can't.
I know it, I do.
Even from behind those distanced bright screens of ours,
I can feel those sleepy eyes closing.
And the countdown begins.
Until I receive the message that tells me what I already knew.
He's sleep stubborn.
And that's something he never wants to admit to.
Maeve
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Maeve
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