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.