An old mattress, a frame- a wooden frame, and a sleepy smile. A figure- a frame, a twinkling grin. Two kisses, no more, no less, and a shift of the dusty curtains, to reveal the golden sun- Fate’s smile.

And then she awoke- for real this time.

She rolled over in her dirty tattered sleeping bag, torn at the feet. In the first few minutes of morning, angry voices shook the dew of dawn. She rose to greet her family. She put her hand to the hole where her stomach should be.

I watched from my window as she shivered. I am warm. I am full, and yet, I am empty- nothingness. She is more full than I could ever hope to be.

I wished to give what is mine to her- to give her everything. I wished to reach out, pull her from her half-slumber, and give her two kisses- one on each cheek. I wished to hug her and comfort her, and hold her ears when the storm of words penetrates her innocence- to protect her. But what use would it be? One less hungry. What makes her more deserving than another.
I Forget.

I Forget what I have.
I Forget that I am not more deserving, and therefore-



I should not have, when another
does
not.