Poetry

Slumber

I didn’t know the true meaning of sleep until I was in his arms.

It was my favorite place to be, head resting over his heart, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart.

© Sarah Doughty

A little something inspired by my first novel, Just Breathe. I’ve been feeling increasingly nostalgic, itching to lose myself in the ongoing story again.

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23 thoughts on “Slumber”

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