My dear little elephant thank you for the bruises on my legs,
thank you for the broken lip, thank you for pushing me in bed
just so you can sleep with me
in such a tight embrace it feels like forever right
as if your big little body had always meant to hug
mine
and it makes me feel so light and bubbly as if by mistake
I am now your blanket
And you apologize while your eyes squint
and you dream of all the words you want to write
with such perfection and tenderness as if words
could be cotton candy and dripping honey.
You paint such a beautiful picture in your dream
I sigh and dream of being the green paint
with which you will start your sketch...
I still can't read you so well my dear baby elephant
but when you sleep by my side
and wake up hungry, starving and bright, so very bright
and I feed you honey and coconuts
you twirl your trunk and make space for us to go back to sleep again
as if there was never to be another sun rise
in an eternally summer night sprinkled with stars
up above
birds that rest and nest over the trees and us,
caught in such an awkward cosmic encounter
no one doubts it happened on purpose.
But why would God give such a beautiful big little elephant
to such a person as me in the middle of New York city?
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