we wouldn’t the window
was open January night
but then you
and so I
and then we
quite slowly
as new rockets arc
through the desert blue
skies you said who
could actually take pleasure
in that kind of hate
for which I love you
and cover you
with kisses
the night doesn’t have
a clear shot if I wrap
you up and then sleep
comes like a dark flood
rising up around the bed
our only fear will the baby awake?
and dreams that complicate
things their velocity
is a mystery but if we
stay there you don’t
have to leave in the morning
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