Bed Room
When his father left
she slept with the child;
warmth in place of heat,
tears instead of salt,
but they both woke her
with nightmares.
That bed a realm
of lost roads and cities.
In the cupboards,
strange monsters
and familiar smells.
We always hope
that children do not know.
Soon she will lie alone
and the boy will dream
under football banners,
circled by dinosaurs.
She will draw words
between her sheets
and shape a horse
to rock herself
asleep.
grasshopper
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