i was nine i went to bed
with an egg
i fell asleep
with it under my hands
warm on my tummy
chick pecking shell
pecking
slowly with blind
determination sticky little
feathers showing through here and there
untidily yolk yellow
before sunrise we both arrived
surprised grinning
ravenous
your heart and my hot water bottle
snuggle up in winter sheets
one at my feet one higher up
i hold it lightly, your heart, but let it
breathe in my neck, closely
with intimate breath
this heart is mine that you gave
i try hard not to lay on it while sleeping
or to hurt it in any way
i exhale onto it with regularity to
warm it
and i kiss its four walls
i wake mornings filled with all of you
my insides
all out
i want to be stroked
until i fall asleep again
ever more filled than
before
every morning more
filled than before
with want
more
ravenous
seasofme190713laid
YOU ARE READING
laid
Poetrychick: am i a people? chicken: no, you're a chicken chick: do chickens come from people? chicken: no. chickens come from eggs. chick: are eggs born? chicken: no. eggs are laid chick: are people laid? chicken: some are. others are chicken anyway, the...
