Betty Bear

The purveyor of my dreams

with eyes like hollow black marbles

smiles beneath the battered blankets

of my restless midnight.

She smells of baby powder and brownie batter,

of cigarettes and rest homes.

 

I smile back with glitter in my teeth.

 

I lose myself in glimpses of the heaven she sees

and cry, for her clothes are worn and

her skin is overwashed.

I fear I may lose her, have to say goodbye

as I did to her keeper -

have to forget the echoing sounds of rocking chairs

my angel once sat in

and write eulogies for sweet tea and bananas

on the front porch.

 

I hold her tightly against me, letting her feel my warmth,

knowing the one watching me held her

this way too.