regret | poetry

you pretend that your bed

is a playground

a place that vanishes in daylight

a place where

I

make

you

happy

where you turn the lights off

within me

where you put my hands on

where you put your daughter’s hands on

everything I should, she should never have held

and played with

on your behalf

your bed has your unarticulated self in it

that comes to life at night

and sleep feels like a lie

sleep feels unprotected

sleep feels like a threat

because you could live so well with constant regret