(o
how the body yearns for those rooms of its youth)

- okay maybe just the one  cream and pink  powder
blue carpet  angels on every surface  angels spilling
vases  angels keeping secrets  and yeah the rest was
pretty rough  but that room wasn’t  that room was
perfect  baby blue  baby pink  baby me  sometimes
i dream i’m relearning to crawl in this grown body
and the blue of that carpet is a lake  and the couches
are flower covered hills  and the angels are there in
the clouds vases secrets and yes they’re watching -