watching a lover sleep

Written by Willow, one of our poetry writers, and edited by Udita, one of our editors!

For ‘Fred’

sometimes I love you, & other times

I wish to give you my bones-

bury me under the sand &

let me run in your bedroom’s rusted circuitry

these days I tell you

not to drink the house spirit’s offerings.

Even if they wake you

from the abyssal sleep that you return to,

over & over

like halcyon to their nests at winter solstice.

I wish your caretakers would simply faint

from the oldness of their garden.

the afternoon tea sets, yellowed & cracking.

the camellias that an undead waits to give her husband

has wilted long ago in a closet.

while they are seafaring in their own minds,

quick, open the birdcages

where your boyhood is locked.

Watch a suncatcher float away on high noon,

send dinosaurs screaming into the verdant foliage.

sleep, & remember in that unmoving desertscape,

fondue shops & classroom daydreams.

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This piece was written by one of our poetry columnists, Willow. Reach them at @oldmanheart, on Instagram!

This piece was edited by one of our editors, Udita. Reach them at @wilde_woolf on Instagram.

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