meowed to wake by cat (the girl one). roll over and

knock her off the bed

(accident). and think yourself evil (criminal).

don’t eat breakfast, you can’t be bothered counting. sip some

bedside water until your tongue is wet. put on

clothes that make you feel small. feet

brushes carpet.

march to clean yourself of bedtime’s

woes. remember

that dream, the one where you stood still

still and strong

feet like roots. some

million years ago you planted yourself into

earth, slithered around. burrowing in

and made yourself

tall and thin.

you dreamed yourself a tree

a silly old tree–

with thinning hair

and gangrenous toes,

doling little more than

watching. watching rise and set

tasting pressure against skin.

little more than growing

over your next million

years.