Mashed Bananas

IMG_5987

she died during the night
sometime between midnight and 5am

she died in the bed downstairs
(really, she died in me).

I used to like the deep hours of nighttime
the world breathed easier,
and I did, too

But not now.

Now I wake up with the sun’s first stretch
and tire myself out
before the moon can assume his post.

I cannot bear being conscious
during the same hours
that her little heart gave up
that her body went adrift within mine.

But sometimes the grief wins
and I wake up at 2am with a knife to my throat
I pause,
and breathe into the sharp, cool blade

and then I return to dreaming
about the smell of mashed bananas
on her cheeks.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close