Free verse № 3253
our morning bed
he has red wings and lies
before me.
daily i chance his profile
as he turns away upon waking.
particles of our lives float
in the streaking beams
of our closed windows.
in the tiny veins and broken stem
of our daily good-byes
a leaf pattern is present.
i hold it up to the light
insect-like.
i snap my fingers to see
if he can fly,
his clammy wings are still.
i simply smile-
running my hand
over his small parts.
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