In the wee hours..

Fairy eyes flutter open-
delicate, veined blue.
Swiftly, soft fingertips
brush the skin above those hazel jewels.

In the dark I silently keep rhythm
with my breath and tapping foot.
The rocking chair is but the vessel
for my breath and tapping foot.

In the dark, the ticking clock
the only steady hand-
leading blindly minute to minute
the steady pace the hours command.

Fairy eyes now gently close.
Delicate, veined blue.
Still the rocking chair-
the vessel,
the breath, the tapping foot.

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