Awake at 3:45 am

The lights from
the street slip
between slightly
parted blinds into
long stripes across
far white wall.

He is sleeping,
stretched on my
right side.

The shadows are
resting in corners,
their teeth receded.
No longer do they
reach toward me
in the lonely dim.

The red glow of
the clock shifts
the room as time
slips through.

He is breathing,
soft and rhythmic,
the only sound
breaking the silence.

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