This Child

Laura Van Prooyen 


She woke and told me
her dream.  She had been
in the kitchen gathering
knives.  She
was planning to cut
and eat me.  This, she
said, is what bad people do. 
Now, how do I begin
to worry about
this?  My little tenderloin
snuggles my hip in the easy
chair.  I stroke her
hair while she kisses
my arm.  We keep
telling the other, I love you
and I love you, and we do,
though we both know
where the knives are.