the cushion behind my back
crunches as I rock.
the baby clucks with each milk-swallow,
k, k, k;
later, puffs into my ear.
I thump the hollow flesh
poured out on my shoulder,
and three wet burps escape.

across the hall, two voices,
a floating conversation:
cheeseburger—
watercolors—
then duet becomes solo,
with pages fluttering their accompaniment.
finally, a stern lamp clicks off,
suspending cinderella’s dreams
for another night.

the furnace sighs and is quiet.

the silence breathes here.
I lean back,
flip the light switch dark
to give my ears a chance.