Piled under blankets,
pigment greased thick
under fingernails – scrubbed once
or twice – her breath falls soft.
Fast as Nike, she slept.
Night crept darker still;
under what pretense
would light appear but dawn?
An hour forgotten, a day forgotten.
The memories fade and no witness
to bear this breath in or out.
Snow drifts. One hurricane
follows another, falls dark.
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“fast as Nike she slept” what a great line –
You write lovely images