Too Much to Ask.

by Marissa Bell Toffoli.

           

                    Pancake, pancake.

Eat that one, in your hand.
You have it right there
.

                   No, Mama. More.

The boy has begun to understand
there is a name for each want.
I take the pancake, hand it back.
Pretend to nibble it. Point, nod.
We go through this
too many times. He wants
one to eat, one to hold.

Early wakes the impulse for more.
Desires stack like pancakes.

At the cafe around the corner,
I sit down to work.
Instead, sudden aloneness.
Not writing. Nothing doing.
My thoughts circle.

Time, time.

 

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