this everyday
seeing his apotheosis
in reverse
not seeing the man turned
into a God
but into a Devil
or something lower
hearing the girl
who cries in her sleep
trying to reach into her dreams
save her from the connection
she holds to this man
as I was once bound to him
the sleeplessness of my guilt
over what I married
who I once was
and how it echoes
for my daughter
in her waking
and her rest
until there is no rest
for me
and the covers feel
like iron chains
every morning
until it is olympic
athletics:
to get out of my bed
to smile
to love
to live