lin is not happy 

the poem i wrote last night

was too intimate  

the three of us in bed

i wrote thinking a reader

might find commonality in the poem

a shared experience

if only as a childhood memory

seeking warmth

fending off a winter night’s chill

she says it was not my story to tell

not without consent

which sounds legalistic

i see problems going forward

~

i think of j.m. barrie's peter pan

wendy in her nightgown  

in bed   reading a story to the boys

john on one side of her   michael on the other

the three of them   cozy as cozy can be

cozy as a basket of warm kitties

as a grass-lined den of sleepy bitty-bunnies

can i explain to lin

the innocence of my intent

is lin seeing something i am not

will i begin self-censoring 

must i write her out of the script  

i ask marketa

first world problem   she says

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