City at daybreak. Under cover of ivy
creep up the landing to peek in the window.
Behind a lace screen, asleep, her hands are
under the pillow
baiting the moment. Rousing Christina
takes more courage than dreaming she’s descended
the river, looking for rocks before rain comes,
washes her foot prints
under the rush of swimming red mud. She sleeps
soft for the first time. Herself she imagines
large, vibrant in a forest where there’s no one
stealing her berries,
waiting to take her, always someplace better,
places the sky burns. Where the eyes of the
window set, fade into nothing, like her dreams
dim with the sunlight.