wildscape. literary journal

If I Had My Own
by Allison Mei-Li

He keeps a nature shelf in his room
of rocks and shells and pine cones,
dried dandelions and twigs.
A time capsule of his treasures.

If I had my own,
I’d keep the freckle under his right eye,
the drops of ice cream from his chin,
his insistence on wearing jeans and socks,
even at the beach.

I’d keep his voice from the backseat
cheering, “skinny moon!”
when a crescent hangs in the sky,
and “the bright went away!”
when the sun dips behind a cloud.

I’d keep the blanket
we lay on our bodies each morning,
the hooded towel
with the puppy ears after bath.

I’d keep his hand in mine,
his head in the crook of my neck,
his weight in the curve of my lap.

about the author // Allison Mei-Li