Tight grip or frozen lips

She demanded decimals
The fairy only have characters
and lumbar support,
The little girl hated sleeping
But the mom can not stop
swaying her comfort blanket
sweeping her eyes, nose, and eyes and nose

She demands, now, to know
the coldness creeping her arms
and spine and the bones of her legs,
“by name, I want to know you
by name.”

“I demanded decimals but I only got letters,
I can not possibly count you,
so I want to know you,
by name.”

“Why the tight grip and why the frozen lips,
grazing on my pores,” she asked.

“I can not leave you alone, for you
can not be contained in any
place, any space.”

“When your hair is on my face,
I can smell my childhood
falling apart or my
muses blank shirts.”

Any place, any space, when
your hair is on my face
I want to know you by name
Not your tight grip or
your frozen lips.
Grazing on my pores, more and
more, more and more.

2015

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