When Eve won’t sleep anywhere but home

It is half past nothing
and we are in the back of a cab
and the rain is dropping lazy, dead weight
but her head on my chest is full of amazement.
The hours I usually keep secret
full of darkness and bright orbs of what
is that? And the safety of mum.
And the sanctity of her tiny hand
wrapped around my thumb.
I am queen of this,
no matter how many
I cross from my list.

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