A Small Space
A poem by Julia R. DeStefano
A Small Space
My radio plays a forgotten song,
old like me and overlooked
but gold to the ocean-eyed one who swims in my colors
and has named me Red Queen.
I thought about him while boiling the water for oatmeal,
then again when rinsing the blueberries,
brewing the coffee and pouring it -
the flying man soaring overhead.
I’ve known him forever.
I wrote him into existence.
He hears the music and dips down to meet my face by the open window -
warm lips to brush against mine
while we breathe in the fury of wanting
to the thump, thump, thump of our caged hearts.
We trip the light fantastic and build each other up with the excitable gift -
moving deep, past our knowing,
wanting to enter each other like some dream.
No more pretending or moaning in secret.
We’ve won the world.
We know that some chances never come twice.
But the mood shifts to familiar solemnity
as the bells tremble to herald his imminent departure from our small space.
He’ll vanish if I hold on too long.
Listen world — I want him to stay with me.
Thunderclouds tell me I’ve no choice but to wave him on.
Now the radio beats to itself
and the story, mine to write.
Forgotten song -
it’s just you and me tonight.
© Julia R. DeStefano
