shooting ducks at a fairground attraction
cracking nuts at a Christmas reunion

I am losing it, all is confusion as the morning light shines in my eyes

It's a colourful paint can.

Under ten million or more twinkling thinking of stars being born
being torn
being worn like a sleeve on my heart
keeping lovers apart

at some point somewhere deep inside where the itch of a memory resides and a wider horizon give a different opinion to the one you expounded
you had to scratch it
so it bleeds and
it's horse ****
you
should have left it for the roses
now your nose is in it

the stars twinkle thinking we're dull and I feel the pull of them
the night is so full of them

in all of the wishing in the well where the wishes of happiness dwell

there are more wishes

more than a million or more.

I watch them winking at me as they wander the celestial sea
each coming to its conclusion

One day
unencumbered by self doubt or confusion
I shall twinkle too.