I can't really focus on
the cigarette between my
finger tips because the
neon sign in the window of the
smoke shop across the street
is always flickering in my peripherals

And my mom called me
from Delaware as I was
walking on the beach
behind my apartment

I can hear the waves crashing
through the phone as she
struggled to speak over them
And I wanted to be five,
holding her hand across
the shoreline

I miss the way
my mom smells
when she gets out of the shower
Like warm melted sugar
And vanilla extract

The poppy flower
tattooed on my ankle
is distorted under water
and I wish I were sitting
on Poppy's lap in the kitchen
while Nonny dances between
the stove and him

I just wanna be held again,
Frozen in time where I am
always safe, always protected

I stepped on a sea shell,
lying side ways and my
foot bled into the wet sand
And I wondered
if I'd ever feel warm again

Not the kind of warmth
you get under the Florida sun
mid-July on your way home
from work

The kind of warmth
you get when you're
smaller than your mother
and curled into a ball
on her chest

I wanna shrink
so my dad can lift me
from the couch to my bed
while I pretend to still be sleeping
in his arms,
I don't open my eyes
because I don't want him to put me down
against the hard wood,
I know I can walk
but why would I?

I wanna shrink,
to the size of the fish
splashing through
the shallow water
near my toes

I wanna swim against the current,
I wanna defy gravity,
I wanna stop time

My mind is racing now,
and I'm not sure how to slow
it down

I wanna sit in a sail boat
on Lake Winola,
watch my cousin
in her life vest
floating in the water,
Soaking in the sun

I'm positive that I'll
never feel the peace
her hands gave me,
when she'd braid my
hair on her bedroom floor
in the spring time

There is a distance
that's greater than space,
a distance further than
flight schedules or
gasoline prices,
A distance that
grows over time,
even if we stand still,
A distance that forms
along our spine,
It straightens our
stature and refuses
to let us crumble
into the arms of our mothers

I miss standing on the couch
with my sisters, waiting
for my dad to yell,
"Don't wreck the furniture"
through his bedroom door...
We loved to wonder
how he knew what we were
doing without looking...
I liked to imagine
there were strings between
our hearts and his,
he could feel when we moved,
when we stood,
and when we sat

I wish those strings hadn't
deterorated as all of us aged

I wanna feel safe,
just one last time