I write this poem in darkness
And tap the keys so slightly
As to not disturb your awkward sleep
I take care not to slide the chair
In that way that makes the awful creek
I know how the bad dreams come
From the noises in the other room
And the worry that I am writing something
That you may not like---
Or worse yet, that may not like you.
Its funny, how lying there—even in sleep
You worry so much about my words
Never knowing how much effort I take
To ensure they cause you no pain.
In Sleep or in wake.
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