no words. even they do not like to stick around to save their sanity. i am not like you,
but i’ll give you children
i’ll try
just promise you’ll make a real thing out of me; a real useful thing. one that talks. and let me hunt for
myself. and for every thing

There are thoughts I have that
I block from escaping my lips.
Sometimes they try to pry them open,
start a mutiny aboard the ship
riding the waves that roll along my tongue.

I have tried to paint this beautifully
in swirling pastels of childhood
like Vaseline over a camera lens
hazes of slow-motion imagery
if it’s naive to believe in changing the world
then I am still a fool
a child’s helpless grasp on hope
in a woman’s intuition

Colors dance across frosty ground
Golden sunlight reaching far corners
Dusty shadows filling unnseen crevises
Painting the land with magic and wonder