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Insomnia #3
I would pray to the Saints
wrapping a rosary around my knuckles
so hard they turn white.
We would speak of Saint Bernadette
until you fell asleep.
The sheen of sweat glowing on your neck
beneath the dark ringlets.
Holding the rosary like reigns in my fist
I blow out the candles
and hold my breath.
Whether I meant it or not.
I finally got my wish.
Clever distain.
Clever distain.