She sleeps beside me
on the couch as I sit
working at things
in which I have trouble
finding worth
while her brothers
and their friends stomp
the house. They’re laughing
as she pouts and pulls
her ‘beatsie’, a pink
blanket, closer to
her chin. I smooth
her soft curls
until she falls asleep.
I know.
I know.
I know.
There is laundry
and dishes, toys
to be tidied, toilets
to clean. I should do all this
in a sprint while she sleeps.
I know these things.
It’s a knowledge
that, over eleven years,
has become a scar in my brain.
I want to give up.
Today. I want to be saved
by someone stronger
than me.
jenifer.wills 
January 3rd, 2009 at 7:50 am
I’ll help you look for a Savior.
In a moment of tenderness,
shall our dreams become real.
– –
Okay,
Father Luke
January 3rd, 2009 at 7:58 am
thank you, Papí.
xxx
January 5th, 2009 at 4:03 pm
Breathtakingly scrummy…
Truly Bukowskian my dear!
Absolutely loved it……
Corndog…