You are awake
on the other side
of happiness
where I commit
major infractions
like closing the fridge
taking off your socks
and drinking the water
I should have known
was for your bear
I finally get you to bed
by promising to tell you about London
in the old days
when everyone was covered in soot
I don’t know enough about this
but I make it up
funny and terrible fates
like a boy’s white dog
that everyone thought was black
you are quiet
and I assume you are fascinated or sleepy
but then you interrupt me to say
mama, if you eat a lion
then the lion would be in your belly
and he could eat your heart
which would be sad
because your heart is where
you keep special way way back things
like who loves you
and old people
you can’t remember anymore
which makes me want to cry a little
for the way way back things
and for the mystery of you
what you make up
and what you already know.