I sniff my sleeves at bedtime
pressing my nose into my pajama cuffs.
I pull the left sleeve open,
bury my nose into the ribbed, cotton cuff.
I love the clean, tidy tightness,
how it smells pink.
I sniff until the cuff warms,
and smells so familiar
I have worn out its soothing scent.
I tug on the right cuff,
inhale new, cool cotton,
filled with just-off-the line fresh air
I sniff the comfort of my cuffs,
No thumbs or sloppy sucking.
I prefer to press my nose into
dry pajama cuffs, stretched and worn,
filled with the soothing scent of sleep.
Annette Langlois Grunseth, Green Bay, is published in anthologies and journals. Her chapbook, Becoming Trans-Parent, One Family’s Journey of Gender Transition was nominated by Finishing Line Press for a Pushcart Prize and Society of Midland Authors Poetry Prize. Her poetry has been recognized with Wisconsin Academy Review, Wisconsin People and Ideas and WFOP.