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How Will I Find Sleep?
Each breath he took was a beat of my heart. Every time he blinked or yawned or smiled or cried it supplied air to my lungs. Every time the sun rose it rose for him and him alone. Four A.M. falls and I roll over to check the messages that used to be my lullaby. Now that my heart be still and my lips be without air and my world be without light, how will I ever sleep?
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