Fear Sleeps in a Lavender Pillowslip
by Louisa MunizOut of the corner of my eye
I watch her watching me.
When the moon is full in June
she crawls into my lap.
I lull her to sleep. Drape her
in a faux fur throw.
I Hail Mary for her. Full of grace
she shrinks to the size of a wrist.
I turn on the night-light. Spray
the pillowslip in lavender.
Her could’ve, would’ve, should’ves fade away.
~
I wake to morning glories unfurling pink silk.
The almost summer sun is full-blown
in the green & growing of June.
I search everywhere. She’s ghosted.
Soon she’ll return fretting to be held.
* * * * *
Louisa Muniz lives in Sayreville, N.J. She holds a Master’s in Curriculum and Instruction from Kean University. Her work has appeared in Tinderbox Journal, Palette Poetry, Menacing Hedge, Poetry Quarterly, PANK Magazine, Jabberwock Review and elsewhere. She won the Sheila-Na-Gig 2019 Spring Contest for her poem "Stone Turned Sand." Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net and a Pushcart Prize. Her debut chapbook After Heavy Rains by Finishing Line Press was released in December, 2020.
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