a lullaby

June 16th of last year I wrote:

Box of wine

The room was a prison of hot breath and heavy blankets
I sat up from the bed
Not careful of waking you
Moved the sheet that covered the window to one side
There were heaps of leaves being blown about tree stumps, shaded from the midday sun
It was too late to be sleeping
I wanted to be out there
I thought I’d escape, and tried the window
But you had already pulled me back in
Under the wool blanket of your hot breathe and sweat

June 16th of this year I write:

I just got a blog!

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