Co-Sleeping

we painted an oak tree
and hung it above the bed
our first november,
co-sleeping

now tiny fingers lie between us
in sudden shifts
grasping at nothing
and falling back-
listless lateral roots

baby boy,
this baby boy,
my baby boy
I can’t see his dreaming
without seeing you

how you tore your body,
your fire and flesh
to make shelter

you turn to face me now, in bloom
full-lipped, ripe as an avocado
I can see through your shirt
drops of milk on your breasts

I know my body is useless,
even as sacrifice,
but still I want to learn
how to offer it as worship

Kevin Coons‘s fiction and poetry has been featured previously in Grey Sparrow, Forge Magazine, Black-Listed Poetry Review, and several other online zines.