I close my eyes hoping for a lullaby.
You can imagine my disappointment when one doesn't come
No matter how hard I try.

i’ve become star-flooded.
my mouth’s overrun with sunk stars,
stars studding my cupid’s bow hollows,
dripping onto my hands and the high pile carpet.
their waxy-hot gloss is scalding and sharp,
white rust still engulfing my tongue in unpolished
supernovas and sparks
sparking metal-doused cinder and oxygen darkness.
i’ve become star-glutted,
my star-clotted lungs are heavy,
stars twine through my breathing like the sweat of a
cigarette-blotted miasma,
eroding the chasms, the veins of my shivering fingertips stretching
tips reaching for stars, for star-bellied galaxies,  
fingertips stretching towards cavities, onyx skies flashing,
for stars with their clashing and golden-scorched glow,
for a star-buried secret
i lost long ago.

i still hear
your 70’s folk lullabies  
every time i go to sleep
even though
i’m 154.6 miles away.

My sweet little one, these sea days
are smaragdine.  I feed time emeralds
to extend your birth.  I nestle you
close though you float away from me
small dream to dream to dream.

Standing in front I see
all your suns. Breath unions us a
mist reared from tide.  Like a tern
winged in breeze seeing only the yellow,
you soar— dream.  

The sun is a darkness to sleep,
eyes not open.  Float, dream.
I grant you my gems, my nights
so no dark moons wane
on your unbroken horizon.