Snore

Do you love me?
He says yes.
I ask how much?
He says guess.

He turns and sleeps.
The soft snore
Makes me think,
Like times before.

I know this love.
It is good,
Faces down storms
As love should.

But that soft snore
Makes me look
To love I know
In a book.

Those pages are old;
But romance
Still makes words there
Slowly dance.

I dream each night,
In the dark,
The snore destroys
That book mark.

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