She fell asleep
She fell asleep on my arm,
and I sat there for an hour,
reaching, reaching,
for the television remote
on the side table.
I struggled, twisted, turned,
trying to reach the remote.
I stretched my free arm, bent,
tried to reach it with my outstretched leg,
kicked it closer, and it fell to the floor,
further away than before.
I pivoted, shifted, but never once
dared to shake her sleeping form.
Splayed across the couch,
one arm pinned by an angel,
I toed the remote slightly closer,
and most skilled did I grab it
with my toes and put it in my hand.
She woke up and wanted to watch Oprah.
I fell asleep on her arm.
(2013)
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