it was silly this phobia she had
of arm falling off because of a pimple
on her forehead
she had allowed it to be important
to displace the rest
the dreams from overly long nights,
the ones she swore she never slept.
this she could speak of and seek reassurance
there are so few we can believe in,
that we will go to heaven,
be happily married
or write a good poem.
her arm will not fall off,
we assure her
and happily she can go on to
this next day hoping for a better night's sleep
with two arms to hug herself in
her moments of fear.