waiting for morning to break
I’m like an undocumented alien
waiting in the gray room
blurred around the edges
keeping warm by candlelight
there is very little to read
but content is everywhere
and though drowsy
I stay wide awake just in
case they call my name
rows away children sleep
snickering and whimpering
unintelligible words in the air
like flashes of joy and fear
june two thousand eighteen
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