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

    bed


“hello, m-

     good morning sun, how’ve you slept?

          oh wait, you don’t – 

                m-


so maybe just a little more for you then?”

     m-


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

    sand

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