Despite the drive for sleep I pulled out a few good lines for a new poem—a quicker concept to work on until I get around the limitations of the Ruth project. Based on notes scratched down a few days ago: Brendan and myself framed in a crooked mirror and the haiku resulting tonight—after midnight, late feeding when I am still asleep, barely functioning. Bending to his insistence for milk, for the new soy-product. The calm afterwards. Looking up into the crooked mirror. The flowered design with crescent moons. Brendan sleepingi n my arms. All warmth.

In the darkened room
we stand, our image framed in
a crooked mirror.


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