When he can't sleep I can't sleep.
I fret and fidget in a smoky semidream
And nearly implore the ghosts of my black
To pull me from the false harbor
Of my dwindling blue.
When he tosses he turns my stomach –
The bed seesaws like a raft in turbulent waters.
I clutch the corner of the mattress
And pray the wretched vessel will not capsize,
Will not send me tumbling
To the place where I once witnessed
The other sleepless one
Perish in the waves
Beyond my empty hands.
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