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The Small Husband

If you want to talk to your husband

and your husband is very small

you lie down on the floor

and the floor is cold

but you warm it

and you look at the wall

where it meets the floor

You are five to eight inches

from the wall

and there are no other noises

Traffic everywhere has stopped

for the holiday

but the parade does not come by

for another couple of hours

and you are neither  hungry

nor too full

and your body is a long silk bag

full of lightweight batteries

arranged on the floor

so it touches the floor

in the maximum number of places

and math has real world value

it turns out

which is not all that surprising

and there are weekends and desires

gestating in your throat

pink and hairless

like mammals

and you close your eyes

and say things to your husband

but he is small

no make him even smaller

Award-winning poet of 'The Trees The Trees'. Author of 'The Crying Book'. Published in The New Yorker, Poetry, & more. Former fellow at Emory.