Sleeping after 30

What can be said of

all the rules we make and follow 

or do not

you carry love and shame and hurt and pride


if you could, you would sew these up 

in a deerskin pouch wear it around your neck and sleep


these things would not seep into your dreams

you could dream instead of white sugar sand beaches and

clear streams 


kittens or even blisteringly hot days when only the grass it seems

can whisper your name


instead you remember stealing valentine candy 

from Greg Carson’s desk in the 2nd grade 

you remember

pulling Mary Elizabeth Long’s hair on the bus 

you remember cheating on the 5th grade spelling test 

in Ms. Littlepage’s class

these things

these bright and hurtful moments

these are what lie upon your heart 

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