under a hedge
late at night
eyes open
hands skittering through
the smooth grass

a temporary escape
held in a jar
suspended above real life

an invisible structure
and youth in isolation, despite
it being unnatural

and several words
disappearing into puffs
that fade into thin air;
god granted me a genie
and made me the wish granter
instead

cold hands, smooth grass
head full of popcorn
ceilings falling into structures
and all integrity lost
to the skittering hands in
the smooth grass.