free-floating
my heartbeat wakes me. it’s 2 a.m. is the baby okay? i run to check. the baby’s room is empty.
my eyes scan the compass points: north, no white crib; east, no changing-table; south, no goodnight moon; west, no mister bear.
my mind computes. a few years back we turned the baby’s room into my study. it seemed so important once. i can’t remember why.
dead of night
thoughts the lamplight
illuminates
