I could sleep and wake up
and you might be here
I could sleep and wake up
and you may not
either way the sleep will be hopeful
I’ll hug myself like a girl
and touch the sign on my wrist
and try not to wait for the bed springs to quake.


Too Happy

Hush, put your heart to rest
do not lie awake and watch the window for his silhouette
do not think of him taking your hand
or the motion of his chest
that shuddering moonlit canopy:
you will not gaze up into it
or be swept by the rush of warm, summer breath
my god, I know it aches
and travels up and through your nightdress
too happy thoughts.

And do not think of that Neverland, your twinkling dream
do not think of being “mother”
not even to an ant
do not think of him as “father”
not even to that ant
not yet, not yet.

Wendy, darling, put your heart to rest
lest you frighten him
lest he leave you nothing but a shadow
and a cold, abandoned thimble.

Realizations from Day 2

I loved like a little girl
too fast and too hard
too open-armed
crush my head beneath his chin
cradled violent
but he’s not a boy
and you can’t love him like he’s a boy
you can’t love him as a girl
you must love him as a woman
and a woman waits
she moves in maybes
she hesitates
she does not come before she is invited
she does not stay passed his liking
she does not cradle
she isn’t violent
she does not say it —
not even if  it’s true.


How many hours
does it take for you to miss me?
Do you have to slap your hand away, too?
Do you have to reprimand yourself like a child
suck on your knuckles to stop from reaching over and —
Do you have to gather your wits at night
to remember that I do
or almost do
that I could, pretty soon?
You’ll miss me, Pretty Soon
you’ll have to
you’ll have to.