Sweet child,
will you glisten under my lima bean table lamp's
yellow serenade?
and cast your inferior shadow,
your pathetic casting shade.

then rust away at your corners
as though you had been weeping
with the sole purpose in mind--
to spit the world a flutter
and reset my porcelain violin
so she is returned to a backsliding zero

Beautiful child,
will you swallow my unreasonable fears
and regurgitate them?
transform them to a beautiful blue hue, for comfort
and to cool my overwhelming, magenta heart
that is endlessly forgetful and
skipping sweet patters

then whisper memories of rainy nights
tied up hoodies at movie theater parking lots--
in a suburban
with freezing fingers intertwined
and the unyeilding smiles of two teenagers just celebrating their adolescence;
those were days when we owned our town so perfectly together
back then, the world had no purpose for reasoning
it merely forgot and forgave

Sweet child,
will you escort me down dusty paths of my past
where i find and lose myself with little effort?
and have a scarce thought of thinking logically,
and take me down the trail
that led to the cliff where i first felt the urge
to just jump
from the nonsense inside of my throbbing head

then sing to me of .44 calliber love songs
and the inside jokes
i've stopped working so hard to remember-
his lethal bangs and black hole green eyes
airport security with black plastic utensils
baggage check, recycled air
and reduced and reused tears that endlessly parade
but always forgive
me, the naive, for being endlessly forgetful