Comfort
You don't have to believe in
every thought you have, do you?
After I am dead,
and my mother is dead,
and my children are dead
or never were, who
will believe in the girl flying
from Egypt, sleepless,
unsettled, halfway to
first snowfall, bridge club,
her partner. This,
the story she tells us, this
girl who can't decide
what to read or how
to turn so to fall asleep.
A blessing:
and that I am the dream
she chose to believe.
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