I, female, lie in bed
dressed in Clark’s flannel shirt.
It is soft, encompassing, swallowing, immersing-
but less human, less active, less person.
It smells like active, human person, though.
I deeply inhale his lingering traces,
trying to fill my shell with as much humanity as I can.
I cradle halves of soft fabric across my torso,
trying to touch as much person as possible,
to be swallowed, encompassed, immersed in,
and buried by something soft.
Kendra pokes her head in the door.
The rest of her follows.
She hovers above me, calls me, hugs me,
drops, puts her head on my bed, and cries-
She is too strong to ignore the pain, but too weak to fix it.
I invite her into my bed.Read More »