And he is doing time
Watching her sleep
Watching how each position
May tell him something
About tomorrow’s weather
The breath’s slowrise and deep fall
A mid-morning Eastern breeze
Warmly pushes London
She headbutts the pillow
Cloud strakes the sun from 1 till 6
Her arm splayed, looks broken
A slight chance of rain
She mumbles a hollow word
A humid and muggy eve
His eyelids grow thick
And they walk through
The improbable day
