Purple Sucker

Dawn Comer

What happened next?

Mommy, what happened next?

she begs, wanting

for story,

an end. But

I have no

context,

know no

story.

Morning but my daughter’s eyes

flit, seeking shadows

in sunlight.

Mommy, what happened next?

Morning and my eyes

stare, settling

into love-heart

pillow, bright pink

against dull blue

carpet.  Cast off

casualty of nighttime.

And then I understand.

Lucy, did you dream? Did you see

 a story in your sleep?

Baby crying, Lucy says.

Baby crying in daddy’s office.

Purple sucker in daddy’s office.

And then,

Elliot angry.

Baby crying.

And me not needing

to hear Lucy

but still she says her name

as if it is not even

hers.

Lucy baby crying in daddy’s office. Elliot angry. Lucy baby have purple sucker.

Mommy!

Mommy, what happened

next?

Her first shared dream an ache in my gut.

I have no

words, no

end, no

power, no

way

to make it all

 turn out

 alright.

Only an ache from feeling

from the inside

for the first time

my daughter’s soul.

Oh, Sweetie.

And I pull close

the slender strong

body of this child

who never flinches

during meltdowns, waits

patiently as parents “deal with”

a brother whose difference is

only what she has always

known.

Is only who he is.

Oh, Sweetie.

And I wish Hello Kitty flannel

comfort could go

deeper than skin

Oh, Sweetie, I don’t know.

I couldn’t see your story.

Older sister to her older brother,

3T pajamas hiding the age

of her soul.

Morning light stays.

The scary goes.

Baby have a purple sucker.

Lucy baby have purple sucker in daddy’s office.

Elliot have purple sucker too!