One-Day Stand
Posted by Marion Smallwood | Filed under Poetry, Print
there is charm
single-file
against my headboard.
it is 9 a.m.
you are still sleeping.
the sun is soft,
folded into a
paper fortune teller
that i made in the
fourth grade.
the future
was brighter
for me, then.
i wonder if when i
peel it back,
tomorrow will be sticky.
i wonder if it will
exist outside of
your breath,
sliding in
and out
of a mass of cells
and matter;
whether
anything else will
matter
but the life
in here.
i couldn’t even sleep
beside you
because it felt
too much like
dying.
it is 9:01 a.m.
let’s say that
after this one-night
we have
a one-day stand
just for the hell of it.
