Heaven

I pick up heaven

It is pale blue like a sheet

White around the edges

Heaven is marked by a boot print

I wet my finger

Try to take it off

It feels bad

You cannot step on heaven

I hold the paper

In the park

You cannot stay for long

Only a moment

This place is not heaven

Even though it says so

On the paper

In my hands  

I hope that heaven is better

There is no break in the light

I wait for it

I imagine it as a clean sheet

A soft bed

A place inside

A warm place

With cushions and blankets and noise

Good noise

Not bad noise

Bad noise keeps your eyes open

That is how it differs

when i walk i am safe eyelids flutter shutter little paper squares of rest but never rest never stop never come to a halt an end an end would be nice an end would be like heaven

The paper square is not an end

It is dirt left over from when

I was little

I think

Now I am as wrong as a boot print on heaven.