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so I know Brad and his daughters
have returned safely home.
Safe. That’s how I feel. Safely home,
in Trey’s arms. And some stupid
part of me mumbles, “I love you.”
He moves and I wonder if he’ll
get out of bed, make that wide U-ey.
Instead, a rain of soft kisses falls
over me. And suddenly, we’re making
love again. Sweaty, wonderful, don’t-
want-to-sleep-anyway love. When we
finish, Trey props himself on one elbow,
looks into my eyes, kisses my forehead
and says, I love you, too, Kristina.
I’ve only ever said that to one girl
before. Maryann Murphy. We were
twelve and I had this major crush on her.
Still dazed by his declaration,
I smile at this confession. “And
what did Maryann say to you?”
He laughs. She said, “Eyew! Gross!”
Damaged me for a long time. He pulls
me back into his arms. Fix me.
I Must Have Dozed Off
Because I wake to an assault
of midmorning sun and,
somewhere close (outside?),
children’s laughter. It takes
several long seconds to
remember where I am, all
