I tend to fall asleep in my eyeglasses.
(you know this)
I wake to a book pressed against my spine.
The television playing a rerun of Friends.
I turn over, slip my hand beneath my cheek and drift off again;
only to repeat this a few more times until my brain registers I can “see” and shouldn’t be able to at 3am.
Clumsy fingers set them on the table, beside my half-drunk glass of water.
In the morning I reach for my spectacles and realize…
it was you
all those times…
it was you who made sure I could find them in the morning.