trouble collides on foot, an acrid smell releases
ducking into the shadows like a scared squirrel
heart flapping like it was the tongue of a grand mal
unfurled in the wind to re assume it's presence
and I wonder if it's back on track, hope waits
full of forty-niners with eyes gleaming
before sleep hits, I feel like a christened child
help up for examination by the congregation
here he is, part of something he had no idea
but you shall protect, give him comfort
a handmade card loaded with glitter
but no scoff escapes my throat, clamming up
it turns to tears, but they dry like a desert
on the heat of my cheeks, embarrassed to feel
chimes of the mobile recall the end
and this dream it fades, sequence to reality
still aboard the sea faring vessel the moon smiles
and my teeth hurt, for there is no fruit.