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Wednesday, October 15, 2003 Every day I wake up it is darker. Still, I rub my eyes and stand on sleep drenched legs, and wander my way to quiet awakening. The days when you are there I hardly sleep. I am awake inside, aware of your warm body pressed against me and the feel of your toenails on the back of my calf. You lie beside me foreign to my bed, your arm thrown haphazardly over me to keep you afloat in the sea of discarded clothing. The nights grow longer; I sleep less, still. |