I. 
Last night 
I was the live audience on your favorite TV show 
I woke up as the girl next door and fell asleep as your therapist
I spend my workdays 
in the hospital as your patient but on Sundays 
I’m your priest and congregation
              your father, son and holy spirit 
I am your favorite gospel singer 
the hand steadying your ladder 
the last task on your to-do list 
your imitation game
Sorry I didn’t respond.
I was going to, but your laugh sounded 
too much like an insult.
I am not your parachute 
I’m a trampoline left oscillating from your stay, 
Take this silence --

Hold it --
then daydream my shape long enough 
to recreate my shadow. 

II.
Rumor has it
if someone appears in your dreams
it means they’re thinking of you
This has left me
bedridden
scanning strangers for your face
and hoping you don’t grow tired
of seeing mine

Lauren Saxon is a 20 year-old student at Vanderbilt University. She was born and raised in Cincinnati, Ohio and writes mostly about her experiences with race and identity. Her work has been published in Flypaper Magazine, and she is currently on staff as a poetry reader for Gigantic Sequins magazine.