Like a Thief
By Mayumi Yamamoto
 

In the living room,

deep in thought I write

at the dining table.

Next door, in the bedroom

you sleep deep and still,

unwinding in your fluffy round bed.

The sliding doors are open,

and we sense each other’s presence.

But I skulk slowly

across the room

because you are alert

to the slightest sound,

to the merest shift in the air

around you.

I sneak with caution

like a thief,

so as not to stir you

from your slumber.