I missed your skin
when it was green;
you called yourself
the queen of east.

I noticed
you tattooed my face
in ink behind
your eyelids now.

Your slippers red
and made of gems.  
You clicked them twice
and wished for me.  
They brought you to
a broken world;
you forced yourself
to call it home.  
You took the rubies
off your feet
and made a necklace
just for me.  
Toss the necklace
to the lake;
its gems are shattered
glass to me.  

You are born
a Capricorn,
but never saw
a mountain range -
Too fragile
of a mountain goat
to climb a single hill
ever since
tornadoes came
to smash your soul
and **** your life.  

Stare at moons
that visits days
and draws those who
forget to yawn.