she wakes, gasping to the soft click
of bathroom door. I have tried

to be quiet, but her ears
have known my pattern

and considered it a dawn.

My name called, the voice stands
to the stun of toilet light.

I think first, it is my own body.

Stranger, my heart
floating at the door. How wild

she looks, nodding
as she recognizes her child

peeing this late hour. We clatter

back to our dark beds. What dream
did I steal her from, being the child,

being the stranger that clicks
across her house?