Pretty Thinker

 

 

There were mornings

When the sun would shine through

My window like a glass gate

I’d turn to my side

And feel the day to be

Like a sea of first breath

Now evening falls in a perched land

I lie in bed like a fish hook

And there, I see him again

A man waits for my lights return

A boy says he loves me like fresh earth in my arms

My heart is a box of letters

Threaded to a violet star