my mother tucked me in one night

and i whispered her goodnight

as if i was too afraid to say goodbye

to her when she slept only ten aching feet

from me. i was brought up to

wish upon time; and i wished for the

moon just as a broken child wishes

that divorces were illegal.

as fathers hated the moon because

they couldn’t feel its presence

quite like the sun. as if they just 

gave away their limbs for the night

in a selfless act offered up to a

crying god who loved everything

he made and hated everything

he destroyed with

simple geometric words

that priests never wanted

to prove.


i laid awake on my light

blue bed with pillowcases

who cuddled with me through

the nights and caught every tear.

the stars whispered me

a poem that i once wrote

them and i swore that i

never wrote something

for things who had no purpose

in this meaningful world.

i held on to sand from the

moon and water from my

mother’s eyes; molding a

castle i will once live in.