by tracybanaszynski

The room is dark. I cannot see. I gently feel around the bed for H. I settle in below him, listening to him breathe. My eyes gradually adjust, and I see his arms splayed out, his tiny feet at a relaxed point, his chest rising and falling. Sometimes I sleep, but more often than not I find myself waiting. When he wakes, I pull him close, curl around him, and feel the warmth of his head against my cheek as we drift off to sleep together.

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