Last night I dreamed I was back in the study.
I saw the green curtains, my sister’s arm
draped around my brother’s neck, Mama
with her hat like a table —

I was in my fanciest dress again.
It itched. The great metal world stayed cold
against the heat of the light: I pushed
my elbows against the iron frame and focused
on the tiny painted moons. When I’m still,

I can see it: that place we were the first time
the lamp took the place of the sun.