I know some women who wish they were billboard bodies with

airbrushed perfect princess curves, but my desire is to have the unbreakable glass and

entrancing dim glow of an ipad tablet that you would stare at for hours and

never turn away.

I wish all the holes I have to fill, the need and loneliness and fear were,

rather, spaces in the New York Times crossword puzzle (online edition)

compelling you with some transcendent force

to find any way to work, to solve to and to complete,  and I picture myself with 

the sleek holdability of your phone, which

you like to curl up with in bed and fall

asleep, your fingers gently stoking its luminous face.

When I make myself small enough to say "I wish you couldn't take your eyes off me"

I make myself small enough to fit in your pocket, and

you say "I don't even know how to do that, I don't even know what that means,"

But you do.