Lost Key

When I was a little girl, my mother took naps every day.

She always insisted that I take naps when she took naps.

We’d crawl into her queen size bed – she on the left and I on the right.

Right before falling asleep, she’d lock love in my heart.

“I’m locking love in your heart and throwing away the key!”

A key turned over my heart, and then the key got tossed over my mother’s shoulder into the darkness of the room.

She performed this ritual every nap.

As an adult, I imagine a stack of keys piled to the sky on the left side of her bed, and yet, gratefully,

no key has ever been found.


 “Lost Key”

One thought on “Lost Key

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