to my older self

are you dreaming now

between the drywalls 

of american cities 

that never sleep 


are you lost now

in novels and prose

both of which you inhale 

as if you are vying time 


are you missing now

mom’s saccharine smiles

and dad’s laughter that 

eddies in the air like mist


are you gone away now 

from laying with your sisters 

- daylight strewing your faces

and the carpet beneath your bellies


are you far away now 

from the tall grass

and townhouses 

and the smell of 

honeysuckle vines


are you forgetting now

the orange juice stains

and maple syrup fingers 

and the sweet melodies

of home


for she would sometimes forget 

to retrace her footsteps

to look over her shoulder 

at the dust she left in her wake, 

at the blips in the sky    

from the cosmos 

she had devoured whole


- anon