by Sara Woods
Dear Hairless Dream,
You’ve got the nicest arms I’ve ever felt.
I can feel them without hair now due to
your recent hairlessness & they feel
like waking up too early & sitting on a porch
with coffee & noticing the wind.
They feel like getting to know your
best friend for the first time, those
late nights of sharing what will become
the beginnings of how you will know them
the things you will think back on & be
surprised at how much they have changed.
Hairless, I’ve got a name tag that says
beautiful on it & I’m giving it to you
for now, for wearing so everyone knows
what you look like all opened up.
Can we kiss in a stream? Can we bury our faces deeply into the sand &
let them live there in their kissing?
While we get to know how the two
of us might be able to move through
the world together gently?
I’ve got ten types of rocks I’m always
on the lookout for & you are made of
at least eight of them & you’ve got
me wondering what was so great
about the other two. You’ve got me
adding all the bits of you to my list
faster than I can write!
What does a world look like when we
hold so strongly to the things we have
become as to not know where
we might have room to let the new parts in?
What I’m trying to say is small movements.
What I’m trying to say is the moment
the perfect harmony slides in & puts
chills down yr spine.
What I’m trying to say is I love you
& can feel a breath coming up from
inside me that’s too big to let out
without waking you up where I can see
you from here, sleeping next to your
soft dog there.
Your limbs are so interesting & what if
they were around me? What then?
How would I know the difference between
what the world wants to be & what it already is?
This is the way your hair falls &
this is how I spell your name to make
it have all the sounds I feel in it.
Come live with me on a beach
& let’s find out how two moons
can rise & set in perfect rhythm
to the song we both love.