i'm singing an improvised version of nearness of you in bed. i stop because i think you've lost interest but you ask me to continue. our little apartment smells like the dinner you cooked for us but all i can feel is meeko's warm breath on my shoulder and his tiny heartbeat. there's a constant hum in my head of the remnant's of today but i try to focus on the happy minutes we have here. where it's family and piles of blankets and furious inspiration.