I am a sleep
and the noise
awakens me
I would enter
into conversation
with the slamming
of the doors
But I have a high fever
and so does
the pretty little girl
over there
on the hospital bench
we could put our hopelessness or our
holiness
together
and hold
each other's
feeling places
But the father
wouldn't allow that
So we shall have to
wait and wait and wait.
for the doctor to come by
and cure us.