Tomorrow He Can Sleep

“You’re drinking it too fast”

the slow pull of red through his lips

spills out in wisdom

The jittering of his limbs- aftershocks

from the adrenaline hit-

his world of colour

“Blue-

he says

It’s Blue”

His words an omen

he’s talking to you

and you sip your red wine

more slowly.

Poem: Chloe-Louise Adegoke | Illustration: Astrid Elisabeth

 

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