every now and then, i am lying in bed
and want to wake up so badly i could
scream for it. surely this is not all there is.
surely this is only a dream, a bad dream,
and the world is kinder beyond it.
every now and then, i pretend
i am twelve years old again
and waking up in my father's arms
as he carries me from the car. look;
the kitchen smells like sunlight and
bread. look; my mother is kissing me
on the head, both of us pretending
i am still asleep. look;
i can hear my brother laughing,
all the way from the next room.