National Poetry Month: IMAGINE IF EVERYONE YOU EVER LOVED NEVER STOPPED by Kallie Falandays

Touching you. If you never stopped changing: You’re still

in your bedroom: blue lamp-light, still teenage-hurt,

no alarm clock. How do you get up in the morning

after being held down by so many hands at least

16 of them, each of them trying to draw something

from your body: this one wants a doll

house for his daughter, this one wants to pull out

breakfast, so many breakfasts, so many pieces of toast.

This one wants to pull you into morning, wants to convince you

to come out from under your blankets. They all want you to come

to their house from Christmas. None of them is scared

you’ll say no. They’ll try to forget about the other hands and they’ll reach

around every one else’s ring fingers just to scrape the inside of your mouth

with their thumb and then they’ll say they’ve captured you

and then they’ll look at your saliva on their finger and they’ll put it in

their mouth: no one will think this is wrong, and every one will try it too.

This poem is from issue 40.2. You may purchase a copy here.