Magic

If you bought me a wizard hat,
I would learn magic

–to easily complete these blue pajamas
adorned with white stars, the soft and safe.

In the day we glimmer. At night–

let’s make sleep a spell, a slow
slip into lullaby, a cradle free

from disagreement, a glass of wine
to forget we inhaled the wind.

We almost floated
into the squeeze of dark. In bed

I watch cartoons in my head: Fantasia fireworks. Flames
that frame the bitter sky. Neon daisies in glowing eyes.

I dream hours researching the best tongue
to learn. The world may need a hero to

vanquish evil through fire, or ice, but all I want
is the kind of magic that keeps you warm at night,

far removed from my cold touch. The kind
where we whisper warm enchantments,

recite words which will not conjure ice.

 

(originally published in Switched-On Gutenberg, Summer 2016)

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