stone pillows
/
sometimes I pull out
my old map of the world
it’s foreign now, but recognizable
the familiar landmarks are still there
I just can’t visit them anymore
the pockets of time, of places, of spaces
that are safe and round
do not want my sharp edges
walking through them
and I am not welcome
I do not belong there anyways
just looking at those old road signs feels wrong
like I am trying to sneak my way around
this new life that started when she died
even when my head hits the pillow
the stuffing turns to stone
and the region behind the waking one
asks me to find another route home
What would a map to the land of the babylost look like? What are its landmarks? How do you find your way around?