Our worlds are so small,

I think.

Have you ever kissed a lion?

Did you jump the fence?

Do your arms have holes?

If they close, will you remember them

as they were?

Do you eat oranges?

Is your heart on fire?

My world is small:

You and I.

The dishes and the dresser.

Keys on the table.

The light I left on.

A letter…I am shipwrecked.

The ocean in my dream.

It was purple.

I couldn’t find you.

The phone ringing. The silence.

The man mowing the lawn.

The leaves. How my mother once

jumped in them with me.

We were both younger.

The sky.  How sometimes it belongs to me.

Your eyes at night.  How they glow

brighter than the moon (I wonder

if it’s jealous).

My coat. Your hands.

My world open

as our mouths

and small

but somehow, I think

endless.