You used to be scared of the moon
but now it’s a homely old ball
a sticker pressed against the night sky
as common as toast
it’s airplanes now
that drive your head into my neck
squealing
part elation
part dread
who can blame you
these birds
that roar over our house
we tell you that you’ve been inside one
but this seems to make it worse
I wonder later if you were trying to remember the day
you were eaten
by a bird
the truth is
I don’t work very hard
to allay your fear
you move so much these days
when you do burrow into me
I lose my words
a strange heartache
in the ephemeral tenderness
of your hug.