Waking Lovely

Wildly on Purpose

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To Protect the Stars from Rust (I Must!)

Stars above, compactly folded, I label each one and trust

They will stay in assigned containers, protected from the rust.

(Plastic bins, plastic bins

And all the shiny things within).


Baby birthed, I have a story, a book to write of you—

We will gush and brag up your name  if you accept “the truth.”

(What could have been?  What could have been?

And all the children say, “Amen”).


Clip feathered wings, chain unknown things, shadows stored and safe

Our closets full, we sweetly stroll, smiles set firmly in place

(Sleeping sound, sleeping sound

And spinning worlds remain unfound).

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the lizard that was a phoenix

Before, I was the temperature

of my environment—

cold limbs moving toward heat.

Any heat.

I sat.  I basked

while the world around me whirred and spun

and I dried up

slowly wrinkling, raisin skinned,

as my juices evaporated

until the day came that

I burst into flames

And became my own sun.