You are curled around your tattered, sky blue, chunky flannel
second childhood skins.
dreaming of that childhood as the sun stretches her slippery limbs
through a tear in the curtains
your mother made
and i am watching your body at peace with your mind and the bed
that suspends you
everything about the image is overly thin and threadbare and
crumbling coddled rubbed by the stories

that
hold you up and hollow you out
and **** you dry and stroke your bones and
kiss you again and again and again

until your heart is eroded


and the cherry dust settles

around your feet

they fill your mouth with light
and stones
they
illuminate you
here and now

before my slumber
tarnished eyes.