• I watch you under
    half mast eyes
    counting petals where
    there are none,
    "he loves me
    he loves me not"
    like a nursery rhyme my
    mother used to sing,
    vodka breath fanning
    my face
    rocking me to sleep,
    a little girl of seven.

    Count the seconds
    between this breath and the next,
    noses nearly brushing
    eyelashes tangling,
    but the space between us is
    infinite.

    He loves me not.