She used to move like frivolous poppies
dancing in the wind,
the comatose air around her; electrified

pigtails flailed around her face,
fat ample cheeks kissed with scarlet
fingernails smeared with dirt from the earth

as she hummed the lullaby of her dear mother’s;
and like every daft innocent child,
dreamed of an unblemished future.

Soon,
time crumbled into ash and slipped through her hands
soiled with foul dismal black and decomposed flesh

pigtails now hung like stilts
moulding down hunched back,
fat cheeks stained with melted salt

my ‘unblemished future’ now illuminated
with dying glow worms in jam jars;
corset hands tightened, leaving a dull ache in my throat
what I’d give to be her again