Contributor: Arlene Antoinette

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The cpap machine has overtaken
the spot where my pen and paper
once sat awaiting midnight scribbles
and shadows cast from silver moonlight.

Last night as inspiration hit me, I rolled
over and whispered a new poem into
my sleeping husband’s ear.

This morning, he remembers nothing.
He swears to the poetry gods that he
heard nothing, only felt cool air
blowing on his skin like a kiss
from chilled lips.

My darling begs my forgiveness, but I
can’t bring myself to forgive him
as I watch my Muse wave goodbye,
no longer willing to work in such
deplorable conditions.


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Arlene writes poetry, flash fiction and song lyrics. More of her work may be found @ I am not a silent Poet, Tuck Magazine, Little Rose Magazine, London Grip, The Open Mouse and Literary Heist.