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Growing up, I shared a bed with my grandparents.

 

I remember the countless nights,

hypnotized by the duet of their rhythmic snores,

I feared that the rising and falling of

their chest, their back, and the air out of their nostrils,

might all of a sudden stop.

 

In that fear and anxiety,

I would fall asleep, only to wake up to

my grandma pulling the comforter off of me,

and my grandpa poking his finger, then

announcing loudly his blood sugar level.

 

Every morning.

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 - from 2023 -