last night
when i got up to go downstairs
to the kitchen.
did the sound
of the cupboard
doors
opening and closing,
and the frying
pan stir you out of a dream.
did the clinking
of forks
and knives against
the plate
make you wonder where
i was,
why i couldn't sleep?
or did you ignore
me,
as usual,
like most times of the day.
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