Limp beige bra, torn suede slippers,
pink viles, violet pills, pots of vomit, pools of
vaseline in lids.
I rub jelly into bed sores
cover you, tuck our soft afghan,
stripes of apricot and tomato,
under your skin, sweep
sweats of silver hair
from your forehead
and fall asleep by
your feet until

(C) 2019 Stacey Z. Lawrence, All Rights Reserved.

Published in Dream Noir

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