1207 am, the day before the seventh

Published August 6, 2012 by April Fox

if there is
an end to this
it is past my field of vision
i am blinded by the
truth that rests
in silence and in
waiting
for the lock to turn
the light to creep in
gently through the open door
the curtain stirring briefly
before lying back again and
your hand against my back
as you settle into bed as if to
steady yourself there
against the sanctity of us and if there
is a day when never is
it isn’t there
for us.

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