this is a lullaby
fingertips trail up piano keys in
drowsy stupor: in and out of blur,
in and out of tune. trace my
spine lazily until the cord
falls limp and i crumple at the
waist, batteries dead, my little
glass eyes empty, staring into
vacant spaces. sticky webs are
weaving between my lids. the
creases between my pupil and
brow gasp for air and twilight.
it starts in the toes like stepping
into a river: cold and marbling
over my skin. an ivory fire in my
bones pulls me into monochromatic
satin and sculpture. the thoughts
are leaping off the diving board;
the memories are kissing the silvery
surface. up to my hips—a shiver,
the second hand of a vermeil
clock knocking my back's base,
pricking my vertebrae. heart
beat ritardando, sotto voce: the
chime of tipsy angels. even the
tickle of their feathers on my face
doesn't stir (they catch in my
eyelashes). now to the shoulders,
the neck: take a deep breath and
plunge down. Capsized water lilies
take my place; i close my eyes against
the caffeinated sting.