Stars dance across the walls
            where ruby red has turned to black.
The floorboards whisper their secrets to the heavens.

A beam of light falls across heavy lidded eyes,
pointing out the Prince of this palace.

He isn’t sleeping.

            He’s stuck in a lukewarm vision from last hour’s
                        fairytale full of dragons.
            A washed out fog behind his thin eyelids,
                        licked over with an emerald scale.

He isn’t dreaming.

            Beside him lies an ancient beast,
            reptilian in all its stitching.
                        When it parts its lips and
                                     breathes
                        it’s mingled with smoke and toothpaste.

He isn’t frightened.

            This little matchstick boy with
                        cobalt-stung eyes
            closes them against this mirage
                                     and whispers,

                                                  “Take me away.”