pale blue comforter pulled back
kicked to the corner of the bed
he is in his boxers
he picks up the guitar
(it has never felt
fingers this heavy before)
sunlight has bleached this moment in
early morning the blinds are up
i watch his back, a sailing ship his big knotched spine
a mast above
his little button
perched
on the rolled edge of the mattress
bundled in its little blueberry cloth.
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