You slept, twitching only slightly,
Damp hair against my breast.
In a small room that smelled slightly
Of plaster and tomato vines
Moths humming,
And us—rocking, rocking.
I slept too, and together we dreamed,
A farmhouse on a dirt road,
A dark branch and a woman,
A beautiful woman standing guard,
Her eyes, my eyes standing guard
Under the eaves as women do.
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