to be little again, or grown up

oh, make it stop
take back the gifts and set the clock
push back my hair, draw the curtains
sit beside me in a rocking chair
till i sleep

i have asked a hundred times: 'is it over yet'?
it never is
so turn down the sun and let the sky deepen to twilight
in the garden, garden lights come on at night
the sound of cicadas in the trees is like the breathing of the leaves
and the song of the ice-cream truck plays over and over
as it prowls the darkened streets
and screams and whoops wheel like bats against the street-lights

love me, love me more
take away the gray carpet and the falling ceiling, the glass elevator
quiet my heart, but let it keep beating
to meet the faces of the people i keep meeting
and speak, and find a way
love me so much that my hand reaches out and always finds an open hand
so much i can touch the people on the train platform and walk behind them
down the sidewalks of lexington avenue
without cursing the visitors and insulting the rest
love me so that i can be my best

at night, when the last lights go out
and the neighborhood dreams
let us climb down the fire-escape, leap the fences
let us find the best spot in the common garden and lie down

take my hand
we will watch the stars, and the clouds passing over the stars
after a while, we will fall asleep while the sky goes light
first the air paints us with dew, and then the sun laps it up

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