Slumber
remembering at 9:28 p.m. on 2004-02-20
I watched your quiet eyes in the filtered lines of night, intruded upon by the brightly primary colored bulbs, strung across the wet, dripping gutter outside my bedroom window.
It was a lonely, wet climatic week before Christmas.
Your dirty, tangled brow hair, lay in stranded, dark trails on my crisp, white pillow case. A muted smile as you listened to my quiet words, float in and out of the short breath of space between your face and mine.
You were my secret confessor.
Sometimes I wonder, if those times, long ago, made the silence of the night tonight, unbearable.
You are always missed.
never was � never will be
