Alone in her empty bed,
Hand upon his absence.

Terrified at the thought of
Him alone in his;

Enjoying the space and longing
For nothing.

Blue skies are ugly in the eyes
Of sadness,

Their emptiness relateable,
Loneliness sunburn.

She turns to the void.
To the beautiful trees;  

*Are you angry at
Me too?

Legs tired from running
On fumes, hands from the

Weight of band aids,
Blisters and splinters.

Busy bird building nests,
Chipped beak, fading feathers.

Angry at trees for asking me
To make

Them into
Houses.

Vicious Monday.
Bones ache.
Heart barely bothers to
Beat.

Leave the bedroom window
Open for us.
I'm coming home to
Retreat,

Let's just eat, and find
Comfort in not caring if
We nap the afternoon
Away.

I want passive dreams
Of daytime intensity.
Bed and woman of the same
Soft density.

Nap. Little
Night between nighttimes.
Little rest between
Responsibilities.

Sometimes there is just
Too much day
In a
Day.

She removed some clothes
So the hug would
Take.

The innocence was more intimate
Than ***.
Finally held, safe from enemies

On all fronts. I served my time
As a human shield,
If only

For seconds, as sharp claws
Let go and warm, caring hands
Didn't.

°

I'll be summer sandbox for you.
You be child for a while;
Rest as only kids can;

Lulled and safe, drifting away
To the sound of adults talking
Softly

So you'll sleep, despite the fever.
Warm with sofa, blanket,
And *little.