your to do list

lover, i am drowning not waving.
please take my hand
lift me up
dry my hair
kiss my forehead
dress my scraped knees
make me tea
read me poems
tuck me in
and love me still
in five thousand mornings.

i had a dream i was in some kind of race. at the beginning of the race i was told that because i had "certain advantages" i had to compete on my hands and knees instead of on my two feet. it was a long course, that started on a steep grassy slope, involved going up into a multi-tiered treehouse and down again, through mud and brambles, woods and rocky beaches. every part of the course had it's challenge. the grassy slope was so steep that i ended just tumbling directly down it, hurting myself. the treehouse was built for children and i had trouble fitting in the doors and boards and ropes were breaking under my weight. my competitors were all passing me with ease, smaller, lighter, faster, and on their feet.

i was crying once i got to the bottom of the tree again, knowing that i'd been set up to fail. i tried to move through the mud but my legs stopped working with the force of my sobbing, so i lay in it, my cheek against the wet muck, people's feet slopping past me and spraying me until i was coated. spiderman appeared and held out his gloved hand to help me. i took it and he said, "just get up, christa. what are you doing? get on your feet."

i balked as he started to pull me upright. "i have to do the race on my hands and knees," i said.

he shook his head. "you were the one that set this race up, girl, months ago! you invited everyone to play and you set the rules. everyone else is following your lead. why did you tell yourself you had to crawl while everyone else ran?"

more people sloshed by us, spattering more mud on my face and body. i suddenly felt more depressed than i ever had before in my entire life. spiderman let go of my hand, and waited a moment, looking down at me expectantly. then he shook his head, as though i were a lost cause, and ran on by himself.