“Poem for Meg” (Poem)

I have loved. I have
Loved like someone leaving
All the lights on

All night long. Like even the white cotton
Sun was stuck at its crux
Above the houses, perpetually

Swabbing the iodine sky,
And no one the whole world over
Slept for four years. I have loved

Like being very small, swimming
In a saucer of warm milk, with no eyes.
I have loved like a glass

Of water on the bedside table
With no water in it.
I have loved like a ghost

Wearing a bedsheet
Ghost costume, as a disguise. Last week
There was still a buoyant spot

On the wall, from the face
Of his watch, disappearing
For half a second each time

He turned
A page in his book. It never fails
To astound me, the way

Each person has so many different
Creatures inside them. Take me,
For instance: a golden

Lab lapping the condensation
From a bottle of bear; a hunter
That wants to make sure he can kill

The animal with the first shot,
As to not cause it unnecessary
Suffering; a child

Who does nothing but pretend
To sleep; and this single
Demonic little snake.

I am beginning
Again.
Again, my life

A sheet
At the foot of the bed,
Two holes where my eyes once were.

At dusk the grocery store
Parking lot fills up with ugly blueblack
Birds. They dye

The sky. Mothers
Walk by, pressing their hands
To their children’s ears. In the false night

I sit in my car
And eat a small white cake.
It was half-off, someone’s else’s

Name already written on it
In green gel. Someone
With my same name.

With a plastic fork,
I eat it all. Meg,
I eat our entire cake.

And it is delicious. So
Much lighter
Than I thought it would be.

Emily Vance Brown