Incompatible

Awakened by your quaking and shaking,

I give you a sleepy, irritated kick.

The bed instantly stills.

I drift beside your warmth.

A false peace —

residual giggles vibrate our bed

and disrupt my sleep again

and again.

Finally, I sit up

“I’m going to pee and when I come back, you had better be done with this nonsense.”

Which triggers another round of bed shaking.

How inconvenient that you dream in Dr. Seuss, rhymes and all, when I am least interested in laughing.

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