Some Shimmer of You

In my dreams
you are always young.
In my dreams
I brush your hair before school,
scooping the curling tendrils off your neck.
You stand sleek,
your eyes fixed on your reflection
as I pull the weight from your forehead
and gather the strands into my hands.
Careening in rhythmic juxtaposition
to my brush strokes,
our bodies dance the dance
of mother and daughter
together at the mirror.

In my dreams
you sit on my lap,
your legs straddle my torso,
your arms surround my neck.
We sit like koala bears,
stomach to stomach.

The weight of your supple body
molds to my belly,
your neck curves on my shoulder.
I trace lightly the familiar contours of your eyebrows,
ears, neck, down along your spine,
as you grow heavier
and become fluid,
relaxing into sleep.

In my dreams you are always young,
upturned faces waiting for kisses,
brimming with adoration.

These dreams come to me
when I have not talked to you for weeks,
when you have not entered my door for months,
and my heart is starved
for some shimmer
of you.

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Some Shimmer of You

As for Life

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