and I tell her about my monkey,
how I take him down to the basement
where we play baseball for hours
until we are both exhausted.
When we have forgotten all about
the feeling of our bodies
I tie him to a chair
and stare at him until he starts
to cry. I wipe away his monkey tears
with my thumb
and we talk a little about
growing up and the pleasure of small things.
After a while I untie him,
give him a bowl of soup and a blanket
and we both pretend it is very cold
and someone we know
is dying.
We cuddle under the blanket
as he tells me
about the place he comes from,
the language which they speak,
and I ask him about love
and what it is like being with me.