ephelba sleeps for two now, has been for some time. she shows no signs of stopping. i get so mad when she does. i don't tell her, she knows anyway.

i don't look at ephelba when i'm mad. she knows this, and tries to cope.

we love each other.

i stay up all the night now. i stay up for two, past two. past three. ephelba is in our room, wrapped in her sanctuary blanket, her skank knit cap pulled over her eyes, and blaze orange ear plugs shoved in as far as they can go.

ephelba must keep the world out when she sleeps, 12, 14 , 16 hours each day.

she asks, "i'm getting better, aren't i?" from where i sit, the difference is hard to appreciate. but i don't say this. i say, "yeah." ephelba smiles.

boi says 'mom sleeps too much.' i tell him, 'its not her fault.' it really isn't anyone's fault. boi says he knows this, but she still sleeps too much.

is it my fault, how i feel?

when ephelba is tired she looks ninety years old. her skin sags, too tired to hold itself up. but when she smiles, i see the woman i fell in love with. so fleeting, so fair.

what does she do with it, all this sleep?

i try not to get mad when ephelba is up. i try not to spoil what little time we got. too often, they come out. angry words like bees, swarm, and ruin things.

angry words of outrage, pissed that their girlfriend sleeps for two. mad for all the things we didn't do, couldn't do because ephelba is asleep. enraged at all the lost time, and lost time yet to come.

i will join her soon. when sleep is strong enough to smother my desire for her, strong enough to silence my hurt and loss.

this takes time. past four, coming up on five.

i will go to her soon. she will throw a sleepy arm around me, snuggling close, and never wake up.

hey there, sleepy head. scootch over.

i love you.