This Morning by Anna Laura Falvey

I felt it
somewhere behind
my eyes
when I woke
up that I’d be late
to work.
I had a bad dream –
I’ve been
having bad dreams
the past few nights,
but in this one
I was alone
and confused. When I woke
up I also felt alone
and confused
but then I moved
my foot slightly
and I felt Sarah’s calf,
and firm
and still. When
she woke
up she told me her dream,
which was also bad,
and I told her mine.
She stayed
in my bed
while I got ready,
watched me pace
between my closet
and my dresser
deciding what to wear,
watched me strip
out of the shirt
I slept in
and step into
a fresh pair of underwear,
hook closed my bra.
I am not
used to her, soft
and languorous
in my bed,
and I felt
my heart expand
with my lungs
as I breathed
deep in.
I sat down
cross legged
in front of my mirror
and she sat
down behind me,
tucking her legs
under my knees.
I tapped
concealer under my eyes,
pressed springpink
blush to my cheeks
while she lifted
the hem of my sweater,
her lips drifting
along my back, hands
firm set
on my hips. The sound
of the church bells
floats through
my half open window
with the April chill.

Anna Laura Falvey (she/her) is a Brooklyn-based poet and theater-maker. She is a graduate of Bard College with degrees in Classics & Written Arts, with a specialty in Ancient Greek tragedy and poetry, where she spent her college career blissfully hidden behind the Circulation and Reference desks at the Stevenson Library, where she worked. Anna Laura is currently serving as an ArtistYear Resident Teaching Artist and Senior Fellow, teaching Poetry in Queens, NY. Her written work is forthcoming with Querencia Press, & Bloodletter Magazine, and has appeared in Ev0ke Magazine, Club Plum, Caustic Frolic, Ouch! Collective, multiple issues of Deep Overstock, Icarus Magazine, and has been featured on the Deep Overstock podcast.

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