WEBVTT

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This is about my middle child.

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It's very
self-explanatory.

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It's called "Love's Relative." The couple who
remain in bed are not alike.

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He's tanned and hairy, has
a fierce Egyptian hand.

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She's dimpled,
brief, alas contrary.

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Rather defenseless
on the sheet when

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morning oozes in the cracks.

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Her tiny toes, his monster feet,
both of them upon their backs.

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Her years are two
and his are 30.

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He's long and bony,
somewhat glum.

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Her little peaceful
feet are dirty.

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She sucks a firmly
calloused thumb.

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At some point in
the evil dawning,

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this oedipal arrangement grew.

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The leap from crib to bed
while yawing mother in disdain

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withdrew.

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O man whose waking
breeds confusion,

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protect the comfort
of her sleep.

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Hers is the primal,
bright illusion from which

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she makes the bridal leap.

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