twenty-six.

My eyelids shiver lazily and
open to find you driving
in the middle of the night as
the moon kisses your face,
making you look like a boy
and a man
at the same time.

There’s an old woman rasping
on the radio
and you haven’t noticed that
I’m awake.

So I just watch you and think about how I
was just a broken little girl
until your hands,
worn and strong and gentle,
put me back
together
without hesitation or
sympathy.

And as the cool air
turns my hair into a wispy
tangled mess,
you smile without glancing
over and say
you love me too.

Copyright © Shonna Rae Bell 2015

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