Another Hour.
I stroked her stomach and thought
of all the things I didn’t want to do that day.
She lay, stroked my fingers, and did the same.
We went back to sleep for another forever.
Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry on unceded Mingo land (Akron, OH). Recent/upcoming appearances in Pulsebeat, La Presa, and The Penmen Review, among others.
