I was awake but you hadn’t yet noticed. I watched you in the September half light growing almost sober, fearful embers blooming at the edge of your eyes as the sun came up on your face, swimming in the crescents under your lashes.
I don’t know where you had stashed them all night but at this early hour you pulled a roll of Extra Strong Mints from under the covers, as if from within from your doughy, white nakedness, and placed one between your lips like a child eating a little sweetie, sighing with gentle relief through your nostrils.
Your eyes closed softly with pleasure. Or was it agony? I could never tell with you.
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