He reaches across the bed,
places a hand on my shoulder
or back sometimes. Sometimes
he yells (what sounds like yelling
in sleep) be quiet or stop. And I do
sometimes. I stay awake and slip
my tongue between my lower teeth
and jagged guard to keep from thrashing
if only for a moment. I let him sleep.
Eloisa Amezcua is an Arizona native. Her poetry and translations are published or forthcoming from Poetry Magazine, The Journal, Cherry Tree, and others. She is the author of the chapbooks On Not Screaming (Horse Less Press) and Symptoms of Teething, winner of the 2016 Vella Chapbook Prize from Paper Nautilus Press. Eloisa is the founder/editor of The Shallow Ends: A Journal of Poetry.
Latest posts by Eloisa Amezcua (see all)