My bed was built beneath
whirlwind puzzles
and bow-tied time,
pulsing menageries
and lopsided rhymes;
circles and rainbows
and dark-alley’d dreams,
suns that explode
beneath smoothed-over seams.
But between the cracks
of the never-ending skyline
live shadows and demons
and sewage-filled pipelines.
There are toy-soldier boys
carrying small metal knives,
their sharp-tongued solutions
highlight well-thought-out lies;
and the bubble-gum girl armies
that ride into the night
spread pink viscous poison
and dance out of sight.
These spectacular visions
linger over my head,
with too-full rainbows
and ship-wrecked dread;
every highlighted secret
connects the stars of a time
where each piece of the whole
was malleable and mine.