Every night I lay awake,

Wishing that I could move to Australia.

The back of my neck would have a permanent burn

from tending to the animals at the zoo.

And I would never have a good hair day

because of the wide brimmed hats that is a part of the khaki uniform.

At the end of the day you’ll meet me where the birds are.

You’ll smooth down my hair and lightly touch my red patch,

before engulfing me in the sweet scent of a hard day’s work and anticipation.

The birds will shriek.

As if to tell us displays of affection

are prohibited in their territory.

At night I’ll lay in your arms.

Our legs intertwined while a cotton white sheet

collects perspiration.

I’ll look out the window and onto the desert,

spotting restless wildlife looking for shelter.

I’ll lay my head back on your chest and smile

because the only thing that keeps me up

Is my untreated insomnia.

How you breathe in serenity and exhale intimacy

finally sings me to sleep.

The sun gently nudging me will inform me that

yesterday has passed.

I’ll sit up and trace the mold that has started

to shape back.

You liked to sleep closest to the door

If in case an intruder broke in,

you could protect me.

Even though a month has passed,

the scent of embalming fluid and musky cologne

Is still longed in my nostrils.

Constantly reminding me that your

masculinity didn’t make you invincible to the

bullet that mistakenly targeted you.

I’ll open up my window to let the morning breeze

take my dwell and the sun promising me

it will kiss the ground later.

When the time comes,

I’ll permanently settle in Australia.

But until then,

I’ll feel my eyes shutting and my body hibernating,

before I see you again.