Morpheus leans his elbow
into my chest.
'I'm not a panic attack,' he says.
'I'm the God of Sleep –
you know that.'
He's checking his mobile.
He swaps elbows.
I gasp a shuddering breath.
Morpheus shifts his weight.
He's onto click bait now,
so I'm most likely stuck.
The phone rings, and
he gets up.
Morpheus stole my sleep the other night too!
ReplyDeleteIt is terrible, he is meant to help us sleep. He is perverse!
ReplyDelete