the moon’s light m-

     waining through the window

the world outside quiet and crisp

     an early spring’s infant morning

she sleeps on

     motionless and silent

          she drifts –

aboard a ship seeking

    passage to a world just

         beyond cloudy days

               and picnics

her ants carry flowers

    larger than the sails

         and deeper than the

               milky sea

before her –

     mermen sing

diving in she’s draining

     down with them

before you know

    she’s back

    inside her


“hello, m-

     good morning sun, how’ve you slept?

          oh wait, you don’t – 


so maybe just a little more for you then?”


this time, with the warm rays of morning on her face, kitties purring in their places –

she’s a Queen

    somewhere – with

    an impressive lot of


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