Love letters: afternoon sleep

by Bonnie Pockley

Despite the chaos of life and the tracking of time, you remain a kind of constant of mine, a kind of deliverance, a kind of lover.

You are my refuge, you see,

my retreat:

the place to be quiet. To rest. To dream.

You are the open sill and the gentle breeze. You are fresh white sheets

and nowhere to be.


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