Beside Communion Candles and Hotel Soaps

      I spend my weekends in your old sweaters,

The sleeves dangling down a little farther

Around my fingertips.

Maybe one day I’ll grow into them.

The embroidered apples,

Chicks and sheep that line the hem.

And I love that card still,

It’s in my sock drawer beside communion candles and hotel soaps

You know, the one

That came with the intricate castle,

That twinkled with one hundred lights in one hundred windows.

You made me feel like a princess.

And I wish I could don that white dress,

You gave me

The one with the red and blue stars

That made my mother’s cheeks blossom with fury,

Because you always had to dress me.

The Valentine’s heart jumpers,

Sequins and velvet cropped above shaky knees.

I spend my days wrapped up in the ribbon of your music box,

The notes of an old song twanging on a little longer

Tugging at my earlobes.

Maybe one day I’ll live up to you.