SAGIT MAIER-SCHWARTZ

HER HAND

The little fingers, soft and silky

slip into my achy, stiff ones.

“Can I go to New York one day and touch snow, mama?”

 “What does a crumpet taste like?”

Sometimes she gets serious…

“Did you know daddy had crushes before?”

Beat.

“On other girls?”

The puzzle she’s trying to piece together,

The one she thinks I’ve figured out.




SWEET DARKNESS

i’m five again

nestling my nose into the wrinkle of your armpit

heaven

nothing like

the sweet, salty skin

of a mom

now gone

and yet

magic happens

when we close our eyes

a wave of a wand

a sprinkle of fairy dust

in the blackness of my lids

you reappear

we’re back together

i take a lick




Sagit Maier-Schwartz is a writer living in California.


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