Want  by Nancy Schatz Alton

Every part of me hurts from wanting

From making myself rise daily

To see about this wanting

I’m done tamping myself down

You see we’re painting

The dining room half-red/half pleasing white

A marriage of just enough mayonnaise to let the want scream

I want my home to signal you

Whoosh you into color

Slap you happy

Shock your veins awake

Until what you want can be heard

For miles

And by miles I mean we’ll break toxic capitalism into pieces

The men who work before dawn/past dusk

Will learn to read their children in the light

They’ll understand quiet

The way it’s better to not speak

When time gives you herself

You just lay your voice box before her

Until she offers you enough sleep

In the fire hot sunlight

Your paste blisters

Your skin falls

Want makes a home of your days that stretch before you

Your new hide soft and supple

An apt place for your children to rest.