I find my Sleeping body
I find her with poems in her hand.
I peel them back
and kiss her forehead,
throw a spread over her fat belly,
too many chocolate chips—not pregnant.
Then I steal her music by lamplight.
I jot down the lyrical treasures she was worried she’d lose.
I blow out her candle.
Let her rest her beauty.
I seal her thoughts in mason jars in a parallel world.
It is a tundra universe.
But I’m used to it.
So I ride my polar bear
off into her horizon.
And when she wakes I’m gone.
Maggie Hess has been a Research Assistant for Contemplative Writing since graduating from Beara College in 2012.