asleep in my arms
he breathes
into a snuffled dream
his head a cushion
for my chin
as I lean in
smell his sweaty secrets
cuddling him
won’t be enough
to save us
from this delirious world
its cankerous delusions
but when he stirs
clings tighter
our breaths eased
into breathless singularity
this intimate moment
puts the apocalypse on hold
+
Rob Wallis’s fifth poetry collection, Caught Jesting, was published recently by Birdfish Books. His poems have appeared in various magazines and anthologies.
Bent Street 