We awake secretly hoping
that one of us has an answer
to a question we never asked.
I wait for you to crack a smile
or wince but you just ramble on
about bulls and bears and cutting
I swat your hand like you’re the
devil but really I’m the pest—
beggars never win.
I don’t hold the sun in my palm.
Neither do you.
But we wallow in the glaring rays.
It just might be enough.