The Blood & The Bones

He is lying there. His stomach pressed flat onto the bed. His breathing steady. He is at peace. I’m not sure how long this will last. Or when my hand will need to gently stroke his cheek when the twitching starts. I have learned never touch his back in his sleep. For this could bring me harm unintentionally like what it brought the man that day in the desert.

I listen to him breathe. I watch as the rise and fall of his body dances slumbers waltz, so well earned, these moments. How many years was he scared to close his eyes?

How many years did he drink himself to sleep?

Will I ever be enough calm for him to be at peace?

I hope so. I pray I can be.

the blood

& the bones