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In bed, you turn your back to me,
pushing me away, even in sleep.
I only seek warmth and comfort.
Blankets don’t touch the cold I feel,
deep in my body. I reach out to you,
but you’re locked in your dreams.
A grunt or two, a muffled snore, a half-
-whistling sound, sometimes, a cry.
Last night you shouted “Help!” out loud.
I hauled you back from some black pit
where sharp-clawed devils clutched you
and tried to snatch you away from me.
Today, it’s my turn to call for help.
I face a horizon filled with darkening clouds.
They refuse to go away and weigh me down.