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Maybe One Night I’ll Be Asleep And I’ll Feel A Hand Like A Dove On My Cheekbone And Feel Her Breath Cool Like Peppermints And When I Open My Eyes My Mom Will Be There Like An Angle, Saying In The Softest Voice, When You Are Born It Is Like A Long, Long Dream. Don’t Try To Wake Up. Just Go Along Until It Is Over. Don’t Be Afraid. You May Not Know It All The Time But I Am With You. I Am With You.

-Francesca Lia Block

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Maybe One Night I’ll

Francesca Lia Block

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Maybe One Night I’ll Be Asleep And I’ll Feel A Hand Like A Dove On My Cheekbone And Feel Her Breath Cool Like Peppermints And When I Open My Eyes My Mom Will Be There Like An Angle, Saying In The Softest Voice, When You Are Born It Is Like A Long, Long Dream. Don’t Try To Wake Up. Just Go Along Until It Is Over. Don’t Be Afraid. You May Not Know It All The Time But I Am With You. I Am With You.

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You Must Reach Inside Yourselves Where I Live Like A Story, Not Old, Not Young Laughing At My Own Sorrow, Weeping Pearls At Weddings, Wielding A Torch To Melt Sand Into Something Clear And Bright.

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Maybe Her Own Tears Were The Poison That Made Her Grow.

Love Can Transform Us. It Can Be A Healing Force Or A Disaster, A Tidal Wave, A Tornado. It Can Burn And Scar Us Or Heal Our Scars. It Can Be The Ghost That Haunts Us, Or The Best Friend Who Reads Our Every Thought. Love May Arrive Like An Angel Of Mercy, A Fairy With Raven Wings Or A Hairy Beast That Will Tear Us Apart Limb From Limb, Kill And Savor Us Down To The Bones.

I Love Sylvia Plath And Anne Sexton. I Also Love More Cerebral Poets Like H.d. And Emily Dickinson. My Parents Subscribed To A Monthly Poetry Periodical, And As A Teenager I Was Introduced To Denise Levertov, Who Was An Influence.

I Dreamed Of Being A Part Of The Stories—even Terrifying One, Even Horror Stories—because At Least The Girls In Stories Were Alive Before They Died.

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Leverett Saltonstall

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