I want car seats in a Subaru with you
cereal scattered on the laminate.
I want daycare time crunches,
tiny books, and cluttered toy bins.
I want long hair again,
mid-week dates when we can squeeze them in.
I want little eyes that look like yours
watching how well you treat me.
I want beautiful brunette creatures who
ask me to braid their hair,
to play basketball in the driveway,
to watch movies with them after the homework is done.
I want the existence of
something I can’t even comprehend
I was close once
so I’ll hold onto that hope
that I might feel something like it
again.

Reagan Fleming