The Slide

The books tower
slide
and reside
on the desk
beside her
bed.

New glasses perched
on the end
of her nose.
Pillows
just so.
Lost
in another
book.

He peers
through her
door.
Longingly.
Dancing,
foot to foot,
knowing better.

He drops his
head.
Walks
away.

He cries,
big tears.
“She’s reading
“again.
“To herself.
“Not to me!”

We sit
in the chair.
The green one
just
for this.

“Buh . . . I . . . Guh . . .
“Buh, I, Guh
“Big.
“Mom! Buh I Ghh is big!
“Every single time!”

And The
Slide
begins
on the desk
beside
his
bed.