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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