LO2

I tend to see you active,
smiling,
for the most part.

Today, a slow Sunday,
amidst procrastination and air conditioning,
you sleep.

Skin and pink cloth on a backdrop of comforting darkness,
punctuated by an unexpected frown,
an uncommon look from you.

Is it the angle at which you lay on the couch?
The expected result of calmed muscles in a particular position?
Or are there other things,
released,
small sadness and hidden disappointments,
working their way out
like fledgeling birds, leaving the nest,
quiet exits,
with a near silent flapping of wings,
and the hope they don't wake you.