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2012-02-11T23:15:01-08:00February 11th, 2012|Parenthood, Relationships|

Secret language

Our son plays in the corner
talking his secret language
into an old cookie tin

my husband and I lay on our backs
staring at the leak in the ceiling
our heads touching

the sky is still chalky with dawn

he asks me if I want a biscuit
but he says it
in a Scottish accent

and that is all it takes

we plan an imaginary road trip
as though we are an old Scottish couple

and we force the fatigue
away.

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