You sleep earthquake some nights
like a puppy
Whimper and swim
You dream like the grand canyon did when it was just a shallow river bed
You never expect to get so big
to create so much space
So I know holding you won't make you still
Your head in my hands like a sunrise
strands of gold
drizzling between my fingers
Your body
like a lonely bear living in a city
you miss home
eat only yellow things
Dandilions
and honey
bumble bees
and chips of paint from fire hydrants
Inside you belly it is always
daytime
always spring
So much light
you don't sleep well most nights
And I wish I could place my hands
inside the space between your shoulder blades
and take it out of you
hold it swirling in my hands
I will put it into a jar of water
and in then in the fridge
so that it might learn stillness in the cold
I will come back to bed to you
a beer bottle still in my hand
I will pull the blankets from you
and let the dark settle
Inside this new space
And maybe this night
You can sleep peacefully
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 1:37 PM UTC
You sleep earthquake some nights
like a puppy
Whimper and swim
You dream like the grand canyon did when it was just a shallow river bed
You never expect to get so big
to create so much space
So I know holding you won't make you still
Your head in my hands like a sunrise
strands of gold
drizzling between my fingers
Your body
like a lonely bear living in a city
you miss home
eat only yellow things
Dandilions
and honey
bumble bees
and chips of paint from fire hydrants
Inside you belly it is always
daytime
always spring
So much light
you don't sleep well most nights
And I wish I could place my hands
inside the space between your shoulder blades
and take it out of you
hold it swirling in my hands
I will put it into a jar of water
and in then in the fridge
so that it might learn stillness in the cold
I will come back to bed to you
a beer bottle still in my hand
I will pull the blankets from you
and let the dark settle
Inside this new space
And maybe this night
You can sleep peacefully
